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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 


REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON.  D.  D. 


BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL   SEMINARY 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

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■  nR  ::  5  1933 


APR  2  >  193 

I  i  BMFE:     , 


OR, 


THE  ARK  OF  THE  COVENANT; 

AND 

OTHER  POEMS, 

WILLIAM  NEWTON,  D.   D., 

Pastor  of  the  R.  E.  Church  of  the  Sure  Foundation, 

West  Chester,  Pa. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

Reformed  Episcopal  Publication  Society  (Limited), 

No.   1604  Chestnut  Street.^ 

1888. 


CONTENTS. 


9- 

10. 

ii. 

12. 

13- 

14. 

16. 

18. 
19. 


The  Ark  of  the  Covenant, 
The  Blind  Weaver,      . 

The  Rainbow, 

Letter  to  a  Young  Scientist  ;  or,  How 

the  Trout  Swallowed  the  Barbel, 
Sowing  Beside  All  Waters, 
Daily  Blessings,  .... 
Letter    from    Miss    Kate  — 

aeout  the  Darwinian  Theory, 
A  Lesson  of  Faith, 
Apple  Blossoms,    .... 
The  Day  of  the  Lord, 
Wait  Aweel,  and  Dinna  Weary,  . 
The  Circle  of  Blessings, 

Waiting, 

The  Evening  Primrose.     A  Parable, 
Intimations,  .... 

The  Lilies  of  the  Field, 
The  Source  of  Fullness.     A  Parable 
My  Hyacinth,       .... 
Silent  Sympathy, 


Page 

9 

65 

67 

70 

77 
78 

80 
88 
89 

9i 
94 

95 
98 

99 
102 

i°5 

109 

114 
117 


6  CONTENTS 

Page 

20.  The  Lesson  of  a  Weed.     A  Parable,   .       118 

21.  We    Love    Him,     Because    He    First 

Loved  Us, 122 

22.  The   Connecticut    Farmer's    Protest 

against  the  mummeries  of  ritualism,       i  24 

23.  As  the  Father   Hath   Loved  Me,  so 

Have  I  Loved  You,  .         .         .         .128 

24.  The  Inner  Nature  Revealing  Itself. 

A  Parable, 131 

25.  Communion, 136 


PREFACE. 


Go,  Little  Book  !  Amid  the  strife 

And  bustle  of  this  restless  age ; 
Speak  lovingly  the  words  of  Life 

To  all  who  pause  to  note  thy  page  ! 
In  unobtrusive  ministry, 
Be  it  thy  silent  work,  to  be 
To  them  what  thou  hast  been  to  me. 
Gently  as  comes  the  evening  dew 

Distilling  on  the  fainting  flower, 
Be  it  thy  mission  to  renew, 

In  drooping  souls,  the  secret  power 
That  thrills  the  spirit  when  the  light 
Of  God's  own  Truth  dispels  the  night. 
Let  in  the  sunshine.     Paint  the  clouds, 

With  rainbow  beauty  from  above ; 
And  bid  the  darkness  that  enshrouds 

Their  lives,  catch  the  first  light  of  Love, 

As,  rising  sunlike  on  the  soul, 

It  tells  of  Him  who  makes  us  whole  ! 

W.   N. 
West  Chester,  Pa.,  October  23d,  1888. 


THE    ARK    OF    THE    COVENANT. 


A  Fragment. 


****** 

*  *  *  *  * 

*  *  ■*  *  *  * 

*  *  *  *  * 

The  Ark  and  the  Mercy-Seat  now,  are  no 
more ; 
The  light  has  gone  up  from  the  Cheru- 
bim there ; 
The  work  of  the  priesthood  of  Aaron  is 
o'er, 
And  the  site  of  its  glories  is  lonely  and 
bare, 
But  the  truths  which   they  figured,    Oh ! 
these  shall  abide, 
Unchanging  and  bright,  as  the  Sun  in 
his  place. 
For  Christ  is  the  body,  through  whom  are 
supplied, 
The  Life  and  the  Soul  of  these  symbols 
of  grace ! 


IO  THE    ARK    OF 

I. 

The  Sun's  declining  rays  were  shed, 
In  fading  light  on  Sinai's  head  ; 
As  Israel  in  their  tents  abode, 
Around  the  Symbol  House  of  God. 
Moses  the  Sacred  Building  rears : 

And  as  the  Structure  stands  complete, 
The  Pillar  of  the  Cloud  appears 

To  mark  it  for  its  purpose  meet ! 
A  Pillar !     For  its  base  is  spread 

Above  the  camp  ;  and  resting  there, 
It  toweringly  lifts  up  its  head 

Into  the  fields  of  upper  air  ! 
Compact  and  firm,  it  seems  to  stand 
As  granite  shaft,  on  solid  land. 
And  yet  a  Cloud  !     As  light  as  those, 

On  which,  as  sinking  in  the  West, 
The  parting  Sun  its  splendor  throws 

In  beauty  on  their  radiant  breast ! 
Each  tribe  in  its  own  place,  appeared ; 
And  each,  its  separate  standard  reared. 
Each  moved  or  halted,  as  the  sign 
Above  them,  spake  the  will  divine. 
Eastward,  the  camp  of  Judah  lay  ;* 

*Num.  ii :  2. 


THE     COVENANT.  II 

Reuben  upon  the  South,*  held  sway; 
Ephraim  upon  the  West,f  commands  ; 
While  Northward,!  Dan  arrays  his  bands, 
Above  the  Tabernacle,  rose 

The  Pillar  of  the  Cloud  ;  by  day 
A  shield  :  to  guard  them  from  their  foes  ; 

A  Guide  :  to  lead  them  on  their  way; 
And  'neath  its  calm  and  heavenly  light, 
They  rested  through  the  hours  of  night ! 

II. 

This  from  without ;  but  all  within 

Was  veiled  from  mortal  view. 
Aaron  alone  might  enter  in 

These  "  figures  of  the  True." 
He  comes  to  the  Most  Holy  Place, 
To  symbolize  His  work  of  grace 

Whose  Blood  can  cleanse  from  sin. 
See !  how  with  reverent  steps  and  slow, 
And  mitred  forehead,  bending  low 

He  calmly  enters  in  ! 
How  grand,  how  glorious  is  the  sight, 

That  bursts  upon  his  eye  ! 
There's  not  a  ray  of  earthly  light 

*  Num.  ii :  3.  f  Num.  ii :  10.  %  Num.  ii :  25. 


12  THE    ARK    OF 

For  mortals  to  descry ; 
No  burning  lamp ;  no  Sun's  bright  ray  ; 

And  yet,  serene  and  fair, 
One  sacred,  high  and  cloudless  day 
Reigns  in  full  splendor  there  ! 
'Tis  the  Shechinah's  glorious  light 

Between  the  Cherubim ; 
Unveiling  thus  to  mortal  sight, 

The  blessedness  of  Him 
Who  took  our  frame  and  flesh,  to  be 
The  Manifested  Deity  ; 
And  bring  the  ransomed  of  our  race, 
To  dwell  in  light  before  His  face ! 


III. 


But  now  the  cloud  is  rising.     See  ! 

With  what  a  stately  grace 
It  takes  its  course ;  and  silently 

Moves  from  its  resting-place  ! 
Oh  !  many  a  heart,  with  joy,  beats  high  ; 
And  gladness  beams  in  many  an  eye, 

As  thus,  before  their  sight, 
Their  heavenly  Guide  leads  on  the  way ; 
And  shows  them,  where  to  march  by  day, 

And  where  to  rest  by  night ! 


THE     COVENANT.  13 

It  moves !     And  everywhere  you  see 
The  camp  in  motion.     Reverently, 

The  sons  of  Aaron  spread 
The  Covering  Veil  upon  the  Ark  :* 

The  hosts  are  in  their  order  led ; 
And  Judah  marches  first.     But,  hark  ! 
The  Silver  Trumpets'  grateful  sound 
Is  heard  through  all  the  camp  around. 
And  as  their  notes,  now  low,  now  high, 

Peal  through  the  air,  serene  and  clear ; 
Their  Leader's  voice,  melodiously 

Falls  on  expectant  Israel's  ear! 

Rise   up,  O  Lord  rf*  in  Thy  dread  robe  of 
splendor! 
Make   all  Thy  foes   flee,   like   shadows 
away  ; 
But  be  to  Thy  chosen,  a  Guard  and  De- 
fender— 
A  Shield  in  the  contest :  a  Guide  for  the 


way  ! 


IV. 


And  thus  they  journey.  J     Wheresoe'er 
The  cloud  pursues  its  way, 

*  Num.  iv :  5.  f  Num.  x  :  35.  \  Num.  ix :  16-23 


14 


THE     ARK     OF 


They  go,  without  one  thought  of  fear ; 

And  where  it  rests,  they  stay  ; 
Alike  where  Eiim's  palm-trees  grow, 
Or  Marah's  bitter  waters  flow. 
And,  as  they  rest,  their  Leader's  prayer 
Sounds  out  again  upon  the  air : 
Return,  once  again*  to  Thy  chosen,  return  ; 

And  cause  them  to  rest  'neath  the  wings 
of  Thy  Love  ; 
Let  the  Cloud  in  its  glory  above  them  still 
burn ; 

And  the  Light  that  directs  them  be  Light 
from  above  ! 

And  as  we  read  the  record  o'er, 

We  find  new  beauties  to  explore  ; 
New  views  of  Truth  ;  which,  pearl- like,  lie 

Dim  and  unnoticed,  till  the  light 
From  some  new  angle  meets  the  eye, 

And  gives  its  colors  to  the  sight ! 

V. 

And  thus  the  eye  of  Faith — though  we 
May  not  the  hand  that  guides  us,  see — 
Yet  thus  the  eye  of  Faith  discerns 

*  Num.  x  :  36, 


THE     C  O  VENA  N  7  . 


15 


A  real  guidance.     And  it  turns, 

As  turns  the  glass,  to  sweep  the  sky ; 

And,  bringing  heavenly  objects  near, 
Places  them  full  before  the  eye, 

In  star-like  beauty  calm  and  clear ! 
Art  thou  a  Christian  ?     Then,  where'er 

Thy  pathway  opens,  Go  ! 
Thou  need' st  not  have  one  thought  of  fear, 

Or  dread  the  strongest  foe. 
Unseen  thy  Saviour  journeys  near  ; 

And  when  thou  dost  not  know, 
He'll  make  each  tangled  question  clear — 

And  doubts  to  knowledge  grow  ! 
Clouds  may  surround  thee  ?    Still;  the  Sun 

Lies  back  of  them.     They  only  hide 
Its  brightness  till  their  work  is  done ; 

When,  all  forever  put  aside, 
They'll  cast  their  shade  and  darkness  o'er 
The  landscape  of  thy  life  no  more  ! 

****** 

The  flower  must  have  the  light  of  day  ; 
And,  as  it  drinks  the  Sun's  bright  ray, 
It  gives  it  back  a  little  while 
In  its  sweet  breath  and  beauteous  smile. 
But,  when  God's  hand  prepares  the  gem, 
That  sparkles  in  the  diadem  ; 


j6  the   ark   of 

It  is  not  in  the  gairish  day, 

Where  sunbeams  flash,  and  dewdrops  play, 

He  calls  its  splendors  into  birth. 

But  in  the  darkest  caves  of  earth. 

Slowly  He  forms  it — and  His  year 

Counts  ages  for  a  single  day — 
And  nations  rise  and  disappear  ; 

And  empires  flourish  and  decay  ; 
While,  far  down  in  earth's  deepest  mine, 

God's  Hand  prepares  the  brilliant  gem, 
In  its  resplendent  light  to  shine. 

So,  when  to  grace  His  diadem, 
He  seeks  His  jewels  to  prepare  ; 

How  long  He  seems  in  trouble's  night, 
To  thrust  them  from  His  love  and  care ; 

And  all  their  fondest  schemes  to  blight ! 
Does  He  forget  them  ?     No  !     They  lie 
Clearly  defined  before  His  eye. 
He  is  but  seeking  to  fulfill 
The  purpose  of  His  gracious  will  ; 
That  purpose  is,  in  light  divine, 

To  set  them  all  before  His  face  ; 
In  the  Redeemer's  Crown  to  shine, — • 

God's  brilliant  Koh-i-noors  of  Grace ! 


THE     COVENANT 


VI. 


l7 


We  change  the  aspect  of  our  theme. 
For  Israel  now,  by  Jordan's  stream, 

Looks  out  with  wondering  eyes  ! 
Judea's  Palm  groves,  far  away, 
Their  rich  magnificence  display  ; 

Judea's  mountains  rise — 
Carmel  and  Lebanon  are  there  ; 
Dispensing  perfume  on  the  air, 

And  beauty  to  the  sight. 
While  Sinai,  Tabor,  Hermon,  too, 
Their  towering  summits  lift  to  view, 

As  carved  against  the  light  ! 
Stretching  in  open  space  between, 
The  ripening  harvests,  on  the  scene 

Their  gentler  beauty  throw  ; 
While  hill  and  vale,  and  fertile  plains 
Tell  of  a  land  where  plenty  reigns, 

And  milk  and  honey  flow ! 

But  Jordan — swollen  to  full  height — * 
Rolls  down  before  them  in  its  might, 
No  bridge,  no  boat,  no  raft,  is  there  ! 
How  shall  they  cross  it  ?     Everywhere, 

*  Josh,  iii:  15. 


18  THE     ARK    OF 

Throughout  the  host,  this  question's  heard  ! 
And  still  there  comes  no  answering  word! 


The  fourth  day  rises,  calm  and  clear. 
And  now,  what  words  are  these  we  hear  ? 
Assume  that  we  are  present  !     Hark  ? 
'Tis  the  command,  Take  up  the  Arky 
And  pass  ye  over  !     Tremblingly, 

The  priests  obey  ;  and  from  its  place 
Taking  the  Ark,  move  silently, 

With  the  two  thousand  cubits  space* 
Between  it  and  the  host.     With  slow 
And  firm  and  thoughtful  steps  they  go. 
Their  s  not  to  reason  of  the  way, 
But  simply  God's  command  obey. 
His  is  the  woi'k,  His  to  provide 
Their  safety  from  the  threat'ning  tide, 
How  anxiously  their  course  is  scanned. 
How  earnestly  the  little  band 
That  bears  the  Ark,  the  burden  shares 
Of  Israel's  hopes  and  Israel's  prayers  ! 
Onward  they  move,  nor  turn  aside 
From  human  fear  or  human  pride  ; 
Right  onward  to  the  Jordan's  brink, 


Josh. 


THE     COVE  X  A  X  /'. 


19 


They  press,  they  falter  not,  nor  shrink ; 
Though  the  next  step  will  bring  their  feet, 
Its  dark  and  swollen  waves  to  meet ! 
There  was  no  sound — no  spoken  word — 
Yet,  from  the  presence  of  the  Lord, 

Backward  the  waters  fly. 
In  his  full  flush  of  swollen  pride, 
And  seeking  where  his  waves  to  hide  ; 

While  Israel's  God  is  nigh  ; 
Jordan  sweeps  backward  from  his  banks, 
And  leaves  to  Israel's  awe- struck  ranks, 

A  clear  and  open  way  ! 
With  reverent  air  and  solemn  tread 
The  priests  march  through  the  river's  bed, 

And  pausing  there,  delay, 
Till  all  their  tribes  in  safety  stand, 
Marshal'd  on  Canaan's  promised  Land  ! 

VII. 

It  was  a  glorious  sight.      Below, 
The  severed  waters  onward  flow. 
Above,  they  rage ;  and  wildly  toss 
Their  arms  on  high,  but  cannot  cross 
The  line  drawn  by  Jehovah's  hand. 
That  wall  of  waters.     See  them  stand 
Piled  up  on  heaps  that  seethe  and  glow ; 


20 


THE     ARK    OF 


Yet  powerless,  ere  He  gives  command, 

To  take  their  place  below  ! 
Meanwhile  the  tribes  with  martial  tread, 
With  bands  arrayed  and  standard  spread, 
Cross  safely.     What  have  they  to  dread  ? 

For  while  the  Ark  its  place  retains, 
They  who  are  on  the  Jordan's  bed, 

Are  safe  as  those  on  Canaan's  plain  ! 
The  Ark's  their  safety.     While  it  tells 

Their  gracious  God  is  near  ; 
Vainly  against  them  Jordan  swells, 
Or  ambushed  foes  draw  near ! 
*  *.  *  *  *  1 

Between  the  cradle  and  the  grave, 
There's  many  a  Jordan  spreads  its  wave  ; 
Whose  dark  and  angry  waters  roll 
And  press  to  overwhelm  the  soul  ? 
It  sometimes  seems  to  mortal  eyes, 

God  fails  His  promise  to  redeem  ; 
And  all  of  peace  and  safety  lies 

The  other  side  of  Duty's  stream. 
What  shall  we  do  ?     Press  calmly  on  ! 
Thousands  before  us  thus  have  gone  ; 

And  all  unite  to  say, 
That,  as  their  feet  sank  in  the  tide, 
Either  its  swollen  waves  divide 


THE     COVENANT,  21 

To  furnish  them  a  way  ; 
Or  Jesus,  by  their  side,  hath  stood, 
To  make  His  word  of  promise  good. 

Oh !  think  you  a  mother  forgetful  can  prove, 
Oi  the  babe  she   has   nourished?    Yes, 
she  may  forget ! 
But,  to  reach  to  the  depths  of  my  Covenant 
Love, 
There  never  was  measure  or  line  for  it 
yet ! 

The  Jordan  of  trial  your  path  may  o'erflow  ; 

The  floods  of  deep  waters  about  you  may 

roll; 

But  fear  not  to  tread  where  I  call  you  to  go, 

For  the  Word  of  my  Truth  is  the  staff 

of  your  soul ! 

My  promise  I  never  will  fail  to  redeem  ; 
Go  down  to  the  waters  ;  I'll  meet  with 
you  there, 
The  Ark  of  My  Presence  shall  turn   back 
the  stream, 
Or   else,   o'er  its  billows   in   safety,  I'll 
bear !  • 


22  THE     ARK    OF 

And  thus  like  Moses,  with  the  Land 

Of  Promise,  spread  before  his  eye  ; 
I've  seen  the  dying  Christian  stand,* 

While  Faith   brought    heavenly  objects 
nigh. 
How  sweet  the  vision  it  displays 
In  living  light  before  his  gaze  ! 
How  calm  the  trust,  how  strong  the  tone, 
That  calls  the  promises  his  own  ; 
And  as  he  nears  the  swelling  flood, 
Expects  to  see  them  all  made  good  ! 
Well  I  remember  one,  who  died, 
Thus,  in  the  bloom  of  maiden  pride  ! 
She  passed,  not  suddenly  away, 
But  lingered,  in  a  slow  decay. 
Her  hope  was  like  the  Evening  Star, 

Which — rising  with  the  setting  Sun — 
Shines  out  more  brightly  from  afar, 

The  nearer  that  the  day  is  done. 


*  I  was  younger  then  than  now;  and  really  believed  that 
Canaan  was  a  type  of  Heaven. 

Of  course,  a  very  beautiful  picture  can  be  made  out  of  this 
figure — while  we  manage  to  overlook  the  facts  of  the  case  !  For 
the  truth  is,  that  Israel's  fighting  days  commenced  with  the  pas- 
sage of  the  river.  And,  for  myself,  I  must  be  allowed  to  hope, 
that  I  shall  find  my  Canaanites  this  side  the  Flood.  I  long  for 
"  Sweet  rest  in  Heaven  /" 


THE     COVENANT.  23 

How  clear  and  radiant  was  the  light, 
With  which  it  shone  upon  our  sight, 
And  its  bright  beamings  in  her  eye, 
Assured  us,  Jesus  still  was  nigh  ; 
And  one  might  e'en  expect  to  hear 
Angelic  music  stealing  near  ! 
In  Jordan's  midst,  she  seemed  to  stand, 
And  view,  by  faith,  the  Promised  Land  ; 
And  thus  she  calmly  passed  away, 

As  fades  the  sunbeam  in  the  West ; 
And,  closing  thus,  her  life's  brief  day, 

Sleeps,  sweetly,  on  her  Saviour's  breast ! 

VIII. 

And  now,  the  hosts  of  Israel  stand, 
Safely  within  the  Promised  Land  ! 
At  length,  their  feet  are  on  the  sod, 
First  given  them  by  their  father's  God. 
Its  Title  stands  in  sovereign  grace  ; 
But  they,  themselves,  must  win  their  place, 
By  conquest  o'er  the  evil  there  ! 


24  THE    ARK    OF 

Before  them,  tall,  erect  and  fair, 
The  groves  of  Palm-trees,  on  the  air, 

Their  gentle  fragrance  throw  ; 
While  nestling  'neath  their  lofty  crest, 
Strong  walls  and  towers  and  dwellings  rest, 

And  royal  splendor  show. 
Far  off,  the  haze-clad  mountains  rise  ; 
And  rippling  streams  bear  rich  supplies, 

To  fields  in  verdure  dress'd : 
And  Canaan,  to  their  wondering  eyes, 

Displays  the  Promised  Rest ! 
The  City  of  the  Palm-trees  there 
Bursts  on  their  vision,  strong  and  fair, 
Claiming  amidst  them  all,  to  stand, 
First  of  the  cities  of  the  Land; 
Serene  and  strong,  she  seems  to  rest 
A  sparkling  Gem  on  Canaan's  breast ! 


A  strange  report  is  on  the  air ; 
And  now,  the  bravest  warriors  there, 
Throng  her  broad  walls,  with  eager  eye, 
The  wondrous  pageant  to  descry ! 
Is  that  the  Man,  of  Israel's  God, 
Before  whose  wonder-working  rod 
The  Red  Sea  shrunk  away? 


THE     COVENANT,  25 

Are  those  the  men  before  whose  stride 
Jordan  rolled  back  in  sullen  pride 

To  yield  them  open  way  ? 
What  means  this  strange  procession  ?  See  ! 

There's  neither  sword  nor  spear, 
Nor  banner  spread  for  victory, 

Nor  martial  engine  here  ! 
With  stately  step  and  measured  tread, 
In  serried  ranks,  with  bending  head, 

Around  the  walls  they  go. 
No  sound  is  breathed  upon  the  air 
From  all  the  thousands  marching  there 

Before  the  wondering  foe  ! 
In  silence,  each  his  station  takes ; 
In  silence,  each  the  circuit  makes  ; 
And  all,  by  One  o'erpowering  will, 
Are  held  in  their  obedience  still  ! 
Six  days  behold  the  host,  repeat 

What  seems  unmeaning  show. 
And,  as  the  seventh  day  dawns,  the  feat 

Is  once  more  acted,  to  the  slow 
And  measured  tread  of  thousands.     See  ! 
With  trumpets  of  the  Jubilee* 

*  The  words  in  the  Hebrew  are  Shoperoth  Yobelim — trum- 
pets of  Jubilees.  The  name  in  the  text  refers  to  the  form  of 
the  trumpets. 


26  THE    ARK    01* 

Seven  priests  their  station  take 
Before  the  Ark  ;  and  reverently 
The  vast  procession  moves  !     Its  way 
Is  pointed  from  above  ;  and  they 
Once  more  the  strange  command  obey  ; 

Once  more  the  circuit  make 
Of  the  fair  city  lying  there, 

Unconscious  of  the  gloom, 
Which,  as  that  circle  narrower  grows, 
Still  in  increasing  darkness,  throws 

The  shadow  of  its  doom  ! 
Six  times,  in  silence  deep  and  dread, 
With  solemn  air  and  martial  tread  ; 
Each  man,  with  sword  upon  his  thigh  ; 
Each  camp,  with  standard  lifted  high  ;* 

The  host,  its  march  renews  ; 
And  the  doomed  city,  wonderingly, 

The  strange  procession  views  ! 
But,  when  the  priests  their  trumpets  blew, 

And  the  last  circuit  close, 
The  mighty  host  its  meaning  knew — 

And  such  a  shout  arose, 
As  if  the  unseen  powers  of  air 
Had  marshaled  all  their  forces  there 

*  There  were  four  camps,  with  three  tribes  in  each,  Num.  ii :  3. 


THE     COVENANT,  27 

To  hurl  on  Israel's  foes. 
Untouched  by  stroke  from  human  hand, 
The  fairest  city  of  the  land 

Before  its  captors  falls  ; 
And  Israel,  turning  in  their  ranks, 
March  up  its  flower-embroidered  banks, 

And  o'er  its  prostrate  walls  ! 


One,  only  one,  of  Israel's  band 

The  Lord's  command  defied, 
Took  of  the  treasures  of  the  land, 

And  in  his  trespass,  died.* 
And  Achan's  sin  and  Achan's  shame, 
May  well  a  passing  tribute  claim  ! 
He  sought  to  hide  it.     Can  there  be, 

Within  the  earth's  wide  space, 
A  spot  where  we  may  secretly 

Convey  our  sin  ;  wipe  out  its  trace, 
And  say,  It's  safe?     No  !     Every  eye 
Will  turn  the  secret  to  descry  ; 
And  voiceless  things  will  cry  aloud — 

*  Josh,  vii  :  25-6, 


28  THE    ARK    OF 

And  unseen  hands  will  lift  the  shroud, 
That  hides  the  buried  sin  from  sight ; 
And  drag  the  guilty  one  to  light ! 
We  see  the  answer.     There  he  stands  ! 
The  Guilty  One  of  Israel's  band. 
Confronted  by  that  daring  crime, 

That  dooms  his  ill-starred  name  to  be 
Hung  out  before  all  coming  time  ; 

Gibbeted  in  Man's  memory  ! 

IX. 

At  length,  the  land  has  rest.     No  more 
The  fields  are  red  with  hostile  gore. 
No  more  are  heard  the  sounds  of  strife  ; 
The  struggle  for  a  nation's  life 
At  last  has  ceased ;  and  Israel  stands, 
Confessed  the  Victor ;  while  the  bands 
Of  Canaan's  warriors  shrink  away, 
And  join,  no  more,  the  hostile  fray. 
By  lotMivine,  each  tribe  receives 
Its  own  inheritance  ;  and  lives 
In  its  own  borders.     But  no  more, 
The  voice  of  their  great  Leader  swells, 

In  trumpet-tones  upon  the  ear; 
Or,  in  its  calmer  accents,  tells 

The  words  He  wills  them  all  to  hear. 


THE     COVENANT,  29 

His  form  lies  silent  in  the  grave  : 
And  all  the  signs,  Jehovah  gave, 
To  seal  his  ministry,  have  fled ; 
As  fades  the  memory  of  the  dead — 

And  who  their  influence  can  restore? 
And  Canaan's  sins  have  come  to  be, 
Entwined  in  Israel's  history. 
The  outward  forms  of  worship,  still 
Their  place,  in  each  day's  duties,  fill. 
Still,  from  the  Brazen  Altar,  rise 
The  flames  of  daily  sacrifice. 
But,  o'er  the  Mercy-Seat,  no  more, 
Glows  the  Shechinah,  as  of  yore. 
Gone  is  the  splendor  of  its  light  ; 
The  Ark  itself  is  wrapped  in  night  ; 
And,  sounding  o'er  the  hallowed  shrine, 
No  more  is  heard  the  voice  Divine  ; 
Hushed  are  its  counsels  ;  all  unheard, 
Its  guiding  or  restoring  word  ; 
And  darkness,  with  no  light  of  grace, 
Falls  thickly  round  the  Holy  Place  ! 
And  years  pass  by.     And  darker  grows 

Israel's  transgression,  and  the  rod 
Of  judgments  gathering  o'er  them  shows 

The  marks  of  an  offended  God  ! 


30  THE    ARK    OF 

But  Grace  prepares  the  means  to  bless, 
Where  all  is  lost  by  wickedness. 

X 

An  Hebrew  mother  brings  her  boy, 

An  offering  to  the  Lord  ; 
And  in  the  fullness  of  her  joy, 

Owns  the  sweet  pledge  restored  : — 
u  Lent  to  the  Lord ;  he  shall  be  Thine, 

As  long  as  he  doth  live  ; 
And  all  my  love  might  claim  as  mine 

In  him,  to  Thee  I  give  : 
Sealed  to  Thy  service  here,  to  show 
What  blessings  from  that  service  flow  ! 
Through  him  shall  Thy  most  gracious  voice 

Sound  in  our  midst  once  more  ; 
And  faithful  souls  in  Thee  rejoice — 

Their  Everlasting  Store  ! 
Thy  poor  shall  be  completely  bless'd ; 

And  all  the  world  shall  see, 
That  they  alone  can  safely  rest, 

Who  surely  trust  in  Thee  !  " 

And  now  a  vision  pure  and  deep, 
As  ever  dawned  on  poet's  sleep, 
Upon  the  page  appears ; 


THE     COVENANT,  31 

We  gaze  with  wonder,  and  confess 
How  much  of  its  sweet  loveliness, 

Sparkles  through  dew-like  tears  ? 
In  Shiloh,  God  had  fixed  His  Seat ; 

And  all  the  rites  that  made 
His  service  at  the  first  complete, 

Were  here,  again  arrayed. 
Perfect  in  beauty — but  no  more 
They  tell  of  an  unbounded  store 
Of  Grace  and  Truth,  whose  meaning  lies 
In  unknown  forms  before  their  eyes. 
Radiant  with  light ;  whose  beams  in  vain, 
Seek  entrance  in  their  hearts  to  gain  ; 
As  shadows  faultless ;  but  no  eye, 

Sees  the  great  Truth,  whose  outline  there 
Lies  in  these  forms  of  mystery, 

To  point  the  hope,  or  prompt  the  prayer. 
Still  in  its  outward  form,  complete, 
No  glory  crowns  the  Mercy-Seat. 
The  Body  perfect — but  no  sign, 
Or  movement  tells  of  Life  divine  ! 
In  stately  robes  of  beauty  dress'd, 

The  frontlet  on  his  brow  ; 
The  high  priest  bears  upon  his  breast, 

All  Israel's  thousands  now. 
For  in  the  Breastplate's  jeweled  face. 


32 


THE    ARK    OF 


Each  tribe  by  name,  appears : 
Stands  in  its  own  appointed  place  ; 

And  in  his  priesthood  bears 
Its  own  relation  to  the  Blood, 
In  which  His  chosen  people  stood. 
But,  o'er  that  Breastplate  play,  no  more, 

Those  beams  of  heavenly  light, 
That  made  its  radiancy,  of  yore 

A  wonder  and  delight ! 
The  ancient  glory  of  the  Place. 

Where  God  had  deigned  to  be 
Found  in  the  workings  of  His  grace, 

The  priest,  no  more,  could  see  ! 
Still,  in  one  dull  routine,  he  goes ; 
And  still  the  stream  of  service  flows, 

When  all  its  life  had  fled ; 
Still,  still,  unthinking,  he  pursues 
One  beaten  path  ;  and  still  renews 

Death's  service  for  the  dead  ! 
Meanwhile,  as  comes  the  dawn  of  day, 
In  the  first  tint  of  early  gray, 

Appearing  in  the  East; 
So  light,  amid  this  darkness  springs  ; 
And  promise  makes  of  better  things, 

As  Samuel,  the  Child-Priest, 
Begins  his  work  of  minist'ring, 


THE     COVENANT,  33 


The  lowliest  and  the  least ! 
Taught  only,  at  his  mother's  knee, 
Scarce  conscious  what  he  heard  ; 
The  youthful  Prophet,  wonderingly, 

Felt  life's  deep  fountain  stirred, 
As,  musing  in  the  Holy-Place, 
He  found  these  symbol  Lights  of  Grace, 

Could,  to  his  spirit's  view, 
Dim  outlines  of  the  Unseen  trace, 

As  shadows  of  the  true. 
Oh !  think  not  Truth's  most  subtle  strain, 
In  childhood's  ears  is  told  in  vain. 
Harp-like,  the  spirit  may  resound 
With  many  a  low,  sweet,  voiceless  sound  ; 

And  leaving  much  untold 
May  still  interpret  truths,  that  lie 
Too  deep  for  human  scrutiny, 

And  their  best  sense  unfold  ! 
For,  like  the  germ  within  the  flower, 

The  soul  of  truth  may  lie 
Unconscious;  waiting  for  the  hour 

Whose  sun-like  ministry 
Shall  bid  the  unseen  truth  arise 
As  flowrets  do  'neath  genial  skies. 


34  THE    ARK    OF 

XI. 

Eli  had  lain  him  down,  to  sleep  ; 
And,  in  the  shadows  still  and  deep 

Around  the  Holy  Place, 
Samuel,  with  ca  m  and  peaceful  breast, 
Had  sought  the  boon  of  childhood's  rest, 

And  found  its  needed  grace. 
The  Lamp  of  God  was  burning  low ; 
And  all  things  told  the  silent,  slow, 

Deep  waning  of  its  light; 
When,  breaking  on  the  startled  ear, 
A  deep  voice,  musical  and  clear 

Rang  out  upon  the  night. 
Samuel !  it  called  ;  and  Samuel  heard  ; 
And,  at  the  unexpected  word, 

But  with  no  thought  of  dread  ; 
At  once,  to  Eli's  couch  he  ran, 
And  touched  the  venerable  man. 

11  I  called  thee  not,"  he  said  ; 
"Go  to  thy  rest  again  !"  and  he 
Without  reply,  obediently 
Went  to  his  couch  :   But  hark  !  once  more 
That  deep  voice  sounded  as  before  ; 

And,  only  wondering  why 
Eli  should  call  him  to  his  side, 


THE     COVENANT.  35 

When  he,  so  late,  the  call  denied, 
And  thinking  but  of  him,  replied, 

II  Thou  call'dst  me.     Here  am  I !" 

II I  did  not  call,  my  son  !"  he  said  ; 
And,  mute  with  wonder,  to  his  bed, 
The  child  returned — but  not  to  sleep. 
For  once  again  was  heard  that  deep, 
Melodious  voice  ;  which  to  his  ear 
Came,  as  from  one  unseen,  but  near : 
Samuel,  it  called  !  and  twice  the  word 

Rang  through  the  Holy-Place. 
Not  yet  did  Samuel  know  the  Lord ; 
Not  yet  had  he  received  His  word, 

Or  known  His  pard'ning  grace  ; 
And  thinking  but  of  Eli,  ran 
And  touched  once  more  the  aged  man ; 
"  Nay,  nay!"  he  said,   "  for  thou  didst  call, 

And  I  am  here  again  !" 

At  once,  a  light  began  to  fall  ; 

Revealing  in  its  train, 
What  Eli  could  not  but  recall, 

Yet  feared  to  entertain. 
Was  it  His  Voice  that  called  the  child  ? 

It  must,  indeed,  be  He. 
That  thought,  alone,  could  clear  the  wild 


36  THE    ARK    OF 

And  startling  mystery 
That  hung  about  it  !     "'No !"  he  said  ; 
"  I  called  thee  not.     Go  to  thy  bed  : 
And  if  again,  that  voice  is  heard, 
Answer  to  the  inquiring  word. 
Speak  !  for  Thy  servant  heareth,  Lord  !" 

Oh  !  radiant  is  the  morning  dew, 

When  Spring's  first  opening  rose 
Begins,  to  our  admiring  view. 

Its  beauties  to  disclose. 
But  never  yet,  to  mortal  sight. 

Did  opening  flower  convey 
Such  beauty,  as  when  first  the  light 

Of  God's  own  Truth  makes  way, 
For  its  unfolding  in  the  soul, 
That  opens  to  its  sweet  control. 

In  Childhood's  dawnine  daw 

So  Samuel  answered,  as  he  heard 
Again,  that  thrice  repeated  word. 
Speak,  for  thy  servant  heareth,  Lord ! 
And  then  as  tolls  the  funeral  bell, 
Words,  clear  and  deep,  sound  forth  the 
knell 
Of  Eli's  gathering  doom  : 


THE     COVENANT. 

Words  with  no  softening  touch  of  grace. 
S   emed  to  fill  all  the  sacred  place 
:h  darkness  and  with  gloom. 
For  he,  the  Father,  Ruler,  Priest, 

th  tripple  power  supplied, 
To  bring  the  greatest  and  the  least, 

Obedient  to  his  side, 
Looked  on  as  if  he  heeded  not ; 

While  on  the  priesthood's  name, 
His  sons  affixed  the  damning  blot 

Of  infamy  and  sham^ 
And  judgments,  from  the  hand  of  God, 
Prepared  them  for  the  chast'ning  rod ! 

XII. 

years  passed  on  ;  and  Samuel  grew 

A  prophet  of  the  Lord ; 
And  all  the  tribes  of  Israel  knew, 

That  the  Revealing  Word 
In  Shiloh's  Tent  appeared  once  more, 
In  Symbol  Presence,  as  of  yore ; 
That  once  again,  the  voice  divine, 

In  accents  low  and  s 
Sounded  from  out  the  glorious  sign, 

That  crowned  the  Mercy-Sea 


II 


38  THE    ARK    OF 

The  living  service  of  their  Lord, 
In  the  Child-Prophet  is  restored  ! 

XIII. 

But  War  is  raging.     Israel's  might 
Fails,  in  this  now  unequal  fight, 

The  victory  to  win. 
Back  of  Philistia's  hostile  bands 
Unseen  by  human  vision  stands 

The  doom  of  Israel's  sin. 
It  gives  its  strength  to  every  stroke  ; 
It  bends  their  necks  beneath  the  yoke  ; 
And  with  the  blood  of  thousands  slain, 
Enriches  all  the  battle-plain  ! 

Again  the  conflict  rages  :    now, 

More  fiercely  than  before : 
The  fields  are  drenched  ;  the  br:oks  run 
red, 

With  freshly  streaming  gore. 
Still,  at  one  point,  the  battle  tide 

With  fiercer  force  is  rushing ; 
And  strength,  by  human  hate  supplied, 
Through  human  hearts  is  crushing. 
And  then  there  burst  so  fierce  a  yell, 

Upon  the  startled  air  ; 


THE     COVENANT. 


39 


As  if  the  very  fiends  of  hell, 
Were  massed  in  conflict  there. 

And  shields  were  cleft ;  and  banners  rent, 

And  steeds  and  riders  madly  blent 
In  deadly  overthrow. 

Still,  still  that  cry  unceasing  goes  ; 

And  still  the  tide  of  battle  flows, 
Upon  the  unyielding  foe  ! 

At  last  the  conflict  lulls.     But  hark  ! 

That  shrill,  despairing  cry 
Proclaims  to  Israel,  that  the  Ark 

Had  lost  the  victory. 
What  brought  it  there  ?  God's  sacred  sign 

Of  covenanted  grace  ; 
What  brought  it  to  the  battlefield, 

From  its  appointed  place  ? 
Man's  empty  thought,  that  outward  signs, 

Could  living  power  bestow  ! 
Or  that  the  Symbol  Ark  could  work 

Discomfort  on  the  foe  ! 
Still  through  the  ages,  men  had  planned, 

The  outward  Rite  to  place, 
In  substitution  for  the  grand 

And  living  work  of  grace  ! 
But  painted  lightning  could,  no  more, 


4o  THE     ARK    OF 

Its  path  in  glory  trace  ; 
Or  shadowy  props  support  the  wall, 
Threatened  with  danger  of  its  fall ! 
No  !    Life  alone,  can  life  bestow ! 
And  outward  Rites  can  only  show 
As  Object  Lessons,  to  the  eye, 
The  grand  and  living  mystery — 
God,  in  communion  with  the  soul, 

Can,  as  an  end  of  strife, 
Subject  it  to  this  sweet  control, 

And  fill  it  with  His  Life  ! 

XIV. 

Eli  forebodes  the  worst.     And  now, 
Dark  shadows  rest  upon  his  brow ; 
Fears  for  the  Ark  disturb  his  rest; 
Conscience  of  evil  shakes  his  breast, 

With  overmastering  dread ; 
He  trembles  for  the  Ark  of  God ; 
Shrinks  from  His  now  extended  rod, 

And  bows  his  hoary  head, 
In  meek  acceptance  of  the  doom, 
That  sends  his  loved  ones  to  the  tomb: 
Out  from  the  priesthood  wipes  his  name, 
And  clothes  it  with  perpetual  shame  ! 
See  !    There  he  sits !    Old  ;  feeble  ;  blind  ; 


THE     COVENANT,  41 

With  form  bent  forward  ;  head  inclined  ; 
And  leaning  on  his  staff,  to  hear 
Whatever  might,  to  hope  or  fear, 

Its  strength  or  solace  bring  ; 
When,  suddenly,  upon  the  air, 
Loud  cries  of  terror  and  despair, 

Out  from  the  City  ring  ! 
Forerunners  from  the  fatal  field, 
Had  Israel's  overthrow  revealed  ; 
And  sorrow  sits  on  every  brow  ; 
And  every  arm  is  powerless  now, 

And  every  heart  oppressed  ; 
And  Eli,  struggling  with  his  fear. 
Signs  to  the  runner  to  come  near, 

And  tell  to  him  the  rest : — 
With  garments  rent,  and  on  his  head, 
The  roadside  dust  and  ashes  spread, 

The  runner  tells  his  tale — 
44  Israel  is  vanquished  !     On  the  plain, 
Thousands  unburied  now  remain  ; 
Hopni  and  Phineas,  too,  are  slain — " 

The  old  man's  cup  is  full  ;  but  still, 
He  drains  it  with  unfaltering  will 
To  the  last  dregs.     But  when  he  heard 
The  runner  add  his  last,  sad,  word 
About  the  Ark  of  God  ;  in  vain, 


42 


THE     ARK    OF 


The  struggle  longer  to  retain 

The  mastery  of  himself.    The  ear, 

One  low,  deep,  anguished  cry  could  hear ; 

One  sharp,  heart-broken  wail ;  — 
And  Eli's  spirit  to  his  God, 
Went  forth,  as  backward  on  the  sod, 

His  body  lifeless,  fell  ; 
Mute  witness  for  the  truth  of  God  ; 
And  charged,  of  His  avenging  rod, 

To  future  times  to  tell — 
His  Sin  had  met  him  face  to  face, 

And  with  its  deadly  doom, 
Had  clothed  him  with  the  deep  disgrace, 

Of  a  dishonored  tomb  ! 
Poor,  weak,  old  man  !    Too  weak  to  hold 
The  reins  of  judgment,  on  his  bold, 
And  wilful  sons  ;  or,  in  the  Name 
Of  Israel's  God,  His  Word  proclaim  ! 
Yet  still  he  loved  the  Ark  ;   and  still, 
He  served  it  with  a  gladsome  will. 
Dearer  than  all  that  Life  could  give, 
He  held  the  privilege  to  live 
In  its  sweet  service  and  employ  ; — 
One  fatal  weakness,  on  the  joy 
That  else,  would  have  possessed  his  soul, 
Entered  its  claim — and  marred  the  whole  ! 


THE     COVENANT,  43 

XV. 

With  dance,  and  songs,  and  shouts  of  joy 

Philistia's   camp  is  ringing. 
And  tribute  to  their  idol  god, 

Philistia's  lords  are  bringing ! 
The  Ark  of  God  is  borne  aloft, 

In  triumph  by  its  foes  ; 
And  straight  to  Dagon's  Temple,  see  ! 

The  vast  procession  goes. 
And  placed  before  its  altar  there 

The  sacred  Symbol  stands  ; 
As  if  the  very  Truth  of  God, 

Were  in  the  idol's  hands  ! 
Was  it  indeed  ?     Was  this  the  end 

Their  glorious  past  was  meant  to  reach  ? 
God's  dealings  with  them — did  they  tend 

No  higher  truth  than  this  to  teach  ? 
Had  Egypt's  lessons  ended  here  ? 

Was  the  Red  Sea  an  empty  show? 
Had  Jordan  failed  them,  in  the  clear, 

Outspoken  truths  it  taught  them  ?    No  ! 
Eternally  those  truths  remain  : 
And  sooner  shall  the  starry   plain 
Pass  into  nothingness  •    and  Earth 
Forget  the  laws  which  from  its  birth, 


44  THE    ARK    O  fi 

Ruled  every  motion,  than  one  word, 

Shall  fail,  of  all  that  Israel's  Lord 

Had  spoken  to  them  !    Rest  we  here  ; — 

The  shadows,  for  a  time,   may  hide 
The  landscape  from  us.    But  the  clear, 

Unclouded  radiance  shall  abide 
Back  of  the  shadows :    and  restore 
The  splendors  of  the  day,  once  more. 

XVI. 

The  morning  sun  rose  bright  and  clear  ; 
And  Dagon's  priests,  from  far  and  near, 
Are  hast'ning  to  his  temple  ;     there, 
Fit  rites  of  worship  to  prepare. 
But  sudden  anger  fires  the  crowd  ; 
And  imprecations,  deep  and  loud 
Burst  from  them  !     Dagon  overthrown  ? 
Their  idol  prostrate  on  his  face, 
Before  the  Arkj     Seems  it  not  clear, 
Some  other  Power  was  active  here, 

Than  that  which  men  can  trace  ? 
Some  other  Will  had  this  decreed  ; 
Some  other  Hand  had  done  this  deed, 

And  hurled  him  from  his  place  ! 
But  soon  back  to  that  place,  once  more, 
Did  willing  hands  their  god  restore  ; 


THE     COVENANT. 


45 


And  turning  thence  away, 
In  mute  expectancy  abide 
Whate'er  disclosures  might  betide, 

Upon  the  coming  day  ? 

The  morning  rose  ;  and  with  it  came 

The  truth  they  dread  to  hear  ; 
That  Dagon  might,  a  thing  of  shame, 

Before  their  eyes  appear. 
And  soon  his  temple's  open  door 
Revealed  that  truth.     There  !  with  his  face 

Upon  the  temple's  floor, 
He  lies  dismembered  ;  in  disgrace 

Before  the  Ark,  once  more  ! 
There,  too,  cast  on  the  threshold,  see ! 
His  head  and  hands  mysteriously 
Sharing  that  unseen  stroke  that  gave 
His  cause  to  a  dishonored  grave  ! 
So,  there  he  lies  !     Poor  ;  abject ;  mean 

In  the  ridiculous  excess 
Of  folly,  that  could  seek  to  screen 

Such  impotence  from  the  express 
And  stern  rebuke  of  men  deceived 
By  that  in  which  they  most  believed ! 
But  yesterday  the  Ark  appeared 

To  them  an  empty  name  ! 


46  THE    ARK    OF 

To-day  ?     By  thousands  it  is  feared, 

As  vested  with  a  claim 
Of  matchless  power  ;  which — silently 
As  lightning  from  a  cloudless  sky — 
Smites  home  with  the  avenging  rod, 
Of  things  that  do  the  will  of  God  ! 

XVII. 

The  men  of  Ashdod,  in  their  grief, 
Cry  out  for  succor  and  relief. 
The  Ark  of  God  abroad  they  bear 
From  place  to  place  ;  but  everywhere 
It  spreads  the  same,  o'ermastering  fear. 

Its  mere  approach  awakens  dread  : 
And  heavy  judgments,  far  and  near, 

Fence  it  about,  with  silent  tread, 
And  as  the  months  pass  slowly  by, 

Bursts  forth  from  all  the  land — 

"  Send  back  the  Ark  of  Israel's  God 

That  we,  no  more  may  feel  His  rod, 

Or  tremble  'neath  His  hand !  " 

Philistia's  lords  that  call  attend, 
The  priests  and  the  diviners  lend 
Their  presence,  aiding  to  devise 


THE     COVENANT,  47 

Whatever  course  may  seem  most  wise 

And  prudent  to  pursue. 
In  high  debate,  their  voices  blend  ; 
And  shape,  as  the  ulterior  end, 

This  thing  for  them  to  do  ; — 

11  The  Ark  must  be  returned  ;  but  so, 
That  we,  beyond  all  doubt,  may  know, 
It  was  no  chayice  that  laid  its  hand 
Upon  our  god,  our  homes,  our  land!' 

Due  preparations  then  were  made  ; 
The  Ark  on  a  new  cart  was  laid  ; 
A  trespass  offering  too,  encased 
In  a  gold  coffer  then,  was  placed 
With  solemn  reverence  by  its  side  ; 
Two  kine  were  in  their  places  tied 
To  draw  the  cart ;  while  kept  behind, 
Their  calves  were  in  their  stalls  confined. 
And  thus  they  stand,  prepared  to  bear 
The  Ark  to  its  own  place  !     But  where  ? 
No  voice  directs  them  where  to  move  ; 
And  Nature,  by  their  yearning  love 
For  their  own  offspring,  bids  them  go 
Back  to  their  stalls  !     But  will  they  ?     No  ! 
A  stronger  power  turns  them  aside, 


48  THE    ARK    OF 

From  native  fields  to  paths  untried  ; 
O'er  which,  with  measured  steps  and  slow, 
They  journey — lowing  as  they  go  ! 
Straight  on  to  Bethshemesh  *  they  bear 

Their  sacred  burden  ;   nor  delay, 
To  crop  the  road-side  grass  ;  or  share 

The  grateful  shade,  that  skirts  the  way! 
And  thus,  o'er  valley,  plain  and  hill, 
They  hold  their  course  unchecked,  until 
They  reach  the  village  harvest  field, 
Where  they  their  sacred  treasure  yield  ! 
Their  work  was  done.     And  so  they  stand 
As  if  awaiting  the  command, 

That  urged  them  all  their  way; 
Whether  it  called  to  toil  or  strife, 
Or  ended  service  with  their  life — 

Theirs  only  to  obey  ! 

XVIII. 

It  is  wheat  harvest  ;  and  to-day 
The  fields  put  on  their  best  array  ; — 
The  golden  grain  waves  to  and  fro  ; 
Or  falls  in  many  a  measured  row 

*  A  village  to  the  North  of  Judah,  belonging   to  the    priests. 
Josh,  xv :  io. 


THE     COVENANT.  49 

Before  the  reapers'  tread. 
Young  men  and  maidens  intervene, 
To  add  fresh  beauty  to  the  scene, 

And  banish  thoughts  of  dread. 
With  gladness,  every  breast  is  stirred  ; 
When  lo  !  a  rumbling  sound  is  heard, 

Of  wheels  upon  the  sod  ; 
At  once  each  reaper's  form  is  raised, 
And  every  one  looks  up  amazed 

To  see  the  Ark  of  God. 
No  human  voice  directs  their  way, 
Or  bids  them  where  their  course  to  stay  ; 

But  just  beside  that  Stone,* 
Which,  altar-like  its  form  uprears, 
There,  'mid  the  reapers'  deaf'ning  cheers, 

Their  vvonderous  work  is  done  ! 
With  willing  hands  and  reverent  air, 
Down  from  the  cart  the  Levites  bear 
The  Sacred  Symbol,  and  prepare 
The  fitting  rites  of  worship.     There  ! 
That  Stone,  their  altar  could  supply  ; 

The  cart,  the  wood  might  yield  ; 
Their  Temple's  roof,  the  vaulted  sky  ; 

Its  floor,  the  harvest  field  ! 

*  I  Sam,  vi ;  14. 


50  THE    ARK    OF 

And  soon  the  flames  of  sacrifice 
Were  seen  ascending  to  the  skies. 
And  gladness  thrilled  thro'  every  breast, 

That  Israel, "how,  in  peace,  once  more, 
Beneath  His  outspread  wings  could  rest, 

As  had  their  fathers  done,  before ! 

XIX. 

Through  varying  scenes  of  light  and  shade, 

The  progress  of  the  Ark  was  laid. 

Their  unseen  God  seemed  ever  near, 

To  deepen  love  or  heighten  fear : 

As  faith  or  unbelief  supplies 

The  thought  that  prompts  their  sacrifice  ? 

In  the  sweet  radiance  of  his  claim 

To  faithfulness  in  every  trust, 
Samuel  had  gone  ;  but  left  his  name 

The  fragrant  memory  of  the  just, 
And  History,  on  her  tablets,  bears 

No  names,  that  with  such  beauty  show, 
How,  from  a  Mother's  faith  and  prayers, 

Such  rich  and  varied  blessings  flow ! 
Saul  too,  had  ended  his  career, 

But  left  behind  a  tarnished  name; 
Unhallowed  by  devotions  tear  ; 

A  thing  of  darkness  and  of  shame — 


THE     COVENANT,  5I 

No  circling  radiance  round  it  glows  ; 
No  power  of  blessing  from  it  flows ; 
No  honor  to  the  Ark  was  paid  ; 

No  grateful  memory  for  its  past 
Of  glory,  on  his  people  laid — 

Self-willed  and  faithless  to  the  last ; 
Unblest  his  own  high  path  he  trod  ; 
And  went,  uncalled  for,  to  his  God  ! 
Then  David  came.  His  ruddy  face, 
His  stalwart  form,  and  manly  grace, 
Seemed  to  suggest  exalted  place. 
Raised  to  the  throne,  he  stood  confess'd, 

First  monarch  of  his  day  ; 
And,  o'er  the  nation  God  had  bless'd, 

Held  undisputed  sway! 
Each  intimation  of  the  will 
Of  Israel's  God  constrained  him  still  : 
His  highest  wisdom  was  to  be, 
With   that,   in  perfect  harmony  ! 
His  name,  His  honor,  and  His  word 
Held  the  first  place  ;  and  Israel's  Lord 
Was  sought  too — and  not  sought  in  vain — 
Thro'  the  long  period  of  his  reign  ! 
Fixed  on  his  throne,  without  delay 

All  Israel  gatherd  at  his  call, 
In  most  magnificent  array, 


52 


THE     ARK    OF 


To  carry  up  the  Ark.     And  all 
That  kingly  power  could  do  to  show 
The  glory  of  its  past  ;    and  throw 
A  sense  of  greatness  round  it,  he 
Achieved,  with  joyous  loyalty  ! 
The  silver  trumpets'   sweetest  strains  ; 

The  lute's  soft  notes  ;    the  cymbal's 
sound, 
Mingling  with  voices  from  the  trains 

Of  earnest  worshipers  around, 
In  sweetest  harmony,  proclaim 
The  praises  of  Jehovah's  Name  ! 
And  so,  with  music,  dance  and  song, 

And  every  outward  trace 
Of  joy,  the  Ark  is  borne  along, 

Up  to  the  Holy  Place. 
And  as  it  gains  its  station  there, 
These  words  ring  out  upon  the  air  ; — 

Rise  up,  O  Lord  !     from    thy  seeming 
repose  ! 
Arise,  and  be  known  from  the  Ark  of 
Thy  rest  ! 
Shine  forth  in  Thy  light  and  Thy  splendor 
for  those 
Who  blest  with  Thy  love,  are  of  all 
things  possessed ! 


THE     C  O  VE  N A  MT.  53 

Let  Thy  saints  in  the  garments  of  joy  be 
arrayed  ! 
Let  Thy  priests,  in  the  robe  of  Thy 
righteousness  shine  ! 
At  the  workings  of  ill,   let  them  not  be 
dismayed  ; 
And  the  light  that  surrounds  them,  be 
glory  divine  ! 

XX. 

So  years  passed  by  ;  and  wealth  and  fame 
Added  fresh  splendors  to  his  name. 
Surrounding  nations  own  his  sway, 
And  tribute  to  his  greatness,  pay. 
But  earthly  power  looked  sweetly  down, 

From  his  exalted  place  ; 
And  found  its  glory  and  its  crown, 

In  that  grand  scheme  of  grace, 
That  sought  before  Creation's  birth, 
To  save  the  ruined  sons  of  earth. 
The  everlasting  Covenant  stood, 
Sanctioned  and  sealed  in  Jesus'  blood  ; 
And,  by  its  counsels,  all  divine, 
Messiah,  in  the  kingly  line 
Of  David,  was  to  David  given  ; 
The  Second  Man,  the  Lord  from  Heaven  ! 


S4 


THE    ARK    O  P 


Thus  David  grew  ;  for  all  his  powers, 

Tree-like,  unfolded  in  the  light 
Of  God's  own  Truth — or  summer  flowers, 
"  Cresent  by  moonlight" — and  his  sight 
Of  heavenly  things  grew  strong  and  clear, 
As  faith  brought  unseen  objects  near. 
Each  phase  of  the  believer's  life  ; 
Its  joys,  its  peace  ;  the  inward  strife 
With  unseen  foes,  that  seek  to  win 
His  members  to  the  work  of  sin, 
And  hold  dominion  o'er  them  ;  this — 
With  the  sweet  touch  of  quiet  bliss, 
That  thrills  the  spirit  when  it  knows 
Each  conflict  is  with  vanquished  foes, 
That  seek  to  gain  their  lost  control, 
And  conquer,  e'en  the  ransomed  soul ; 
But  flee  at  once  before  the  sign 
Of  trusting  in  the  Name  divine — 
All  this  was  his ;  and  in  the  strains 
Of  the  sweet  singer  still  remains, 
A  royal  legacy  of  song, 

Our  wants,  our  cravings  to  supply ; 
And  as  the  ages  roll  along, 

Tell  of  the  Love  that  cannot  die  ! 


THE     COVENANT,  55 

XXI. 

Speak  low ;  as  for  a  father's  shame. 
For  guilt  besmears  that  honored  name  ; 
And  secret  sins  cry  out  to  God, 
And  call  for  His  avenging  rod. 
Mourn  o'er  his  fall !      But  let  no  claim 

Of  a  false  pity  seek  to  hide 
The  blackness  of  his  guilt ;  or  frame 

Suggestions,  that  would  turn  aside 
His  condemnation.     For  the  sin, 
That  unexpelled,  still  lurked  within 
His  members  ;  waiting  for  its  hour, 
Finds  it  at  last ;  and  wond'ringly, 
Conquers  by  unresisted  power, 

And  gains  permitted  victory  ! 

Where  shall  he  now  his  guilt  bestow? 

Where  hide  his  fearful  secret  ?     See  ! 
Through  Earth's  wide  range,  above,  below, 

There  is  no  single  spot  where  he 
May  safely  hide  away  his  sin. 
Earth  will  not  take  his  secret  in  ! 
Silent  as  Thought :  with  cat-like  tread, 

Unseen,  it  follows  on  his  path  ; 
And  makes  the  living  and  the  dead, 


56 


THE    ARK    OP 


Secret  detectives  of  his  wrath, 
Before  whom  sin  can  ne'er  abide  ; 
Or  ever  from  His  presence  hide  ! 
And  years  may  pass,  and  mortal  eyes 

May  fail  the  guilty  one  to  trace  : 
When  lo  !  the  buried  sin  will  rise, 

And  meet  the  sinner  face  to  face  ! 
But  not  for  this  did  David  wait ; 
Or  hide  behind  his  kingly  state. 
For  when  the  prophet  of  the  Lord 
Spoke  to  him  this  revealing  word, 
"  Thou  art  the  man ,"  at  once  his  sin, 

Unveiled,  before  his  view,  appears  ; 
And  shame  without,  and  guilt  within 

Rise  up  against  him  ;  when  he  hears 
A  voice  that  spoke  to  him  alone  ; — 
And,  circling  from  the  Eternal  Throne, 
Told  of  his  sin,  without  one  plea, 

And  then,  of  One  who  for  him  stood  ; 
And,  answering  to  its  penalty, 

Secured  his  pardon  with  His  blood  ! 
Oh  !  sweeter  than  the  sweetest  strains 

Of  music  on  the  moonlit  sea  ; 
The  memory  of  that  hour  remains, 

When  Faith  first  heard  the  Come  to  Me  ; 
And  coming  finds  the  promised  rest, 


THE     COVENANT.  57 

Pardon  and  peace  on  Jesus'  breast ! 

There  only  we  begin  to  see 

The  hatefulness  of  sin  ;  and  flee 

From  its  control  away  ! 
There,  there,  repentance  unto  life 
Reveals  its  power,  with  blessings  rife, 

As  Light  reveals  the  Day  ! 

XXII. 

But  does  the  pardon  of  our  sin, 

Wipe  out  its  consequences  ?     No  ! 
From  its  first  moment,  they  begin 

To  work  their  just  results  ;  and  flow, 
Unseen  as  streams  beneath  the  sod  ; 

Till  from  their  secret  place  they  rise 

And  show,  before  our  wondering  eyes, 
How  all  things  seal  the  Truth  of  God  ! 
And  Evil  soon  begins  its  work, 

In  those  he  deemed  most  true  ; 
And  still,  new  combinations  rose  ; 
And  still,  the  gatherings  of  his  foes, 

Stronger  and  stronger  grew. 
But  that,  which  wrought  the  deadliest  grief 
Which  neither  solace  nor  relief, 

From  earthly  source  could  gain  ; — 
Like  spear-head,  broken  in  his  side — 
4 


58  THE    ARK    OF 

That  Absalom,  his  boy,  his  pride 

Should  lead  the  rebel  train  ! 
Should  rise  against  his  father's  life ; 
And  by  this  most  unhallowed  strife, 
Seek  to  o'erthrow  his  father's  throne, 
And  on  its  ruins  rear  his  own. 
This  was  the  deadliest  stroke  of  all  ; 
This  was  the  thrust  that  made  his  fall, 
Sudden;  abrupt;  without  relief; 
And  crushed  him,  'neath  its  wordless  grief  ! 
Gone  was  his  kingly  look  and  air  ; 
His  kingly  head  was  bowed  and  bare  ; 

His  kingly  state  was  gone, 
Gone  too,  the  warrior's  martial  pride  ; 
His  arm  hung  powerless  by  his  side, 

And  refuge  he  had  none ! 
With  other  foes,  a  bow  of  steel 
Might  sooner,  soft  compunction  feel, 

Than  he  decline  the  fray  ! 
But,  when  the  stroke,  that  ends  the  strife, 
Can  do  so  only  through  his  life  ; 

Heart-sick  he  turns  away — 
Rather  be  crown  and  kingdom  lost ; 
Than  saved  by  him  at  such  a  cost ! 


THE     COVENANT,  59 


XXIII. 


So  David  flees.     A  little  band 

Loving  in  heart,  and  strong  in  hand  ; 
Faithful  and  tried  and  true, 
Prepare  to  follow  where  he  leads  ; 
To  succor  him  in  all  his  needs ; 

And  bring  him  safely  through ! 
And  as  he  flees  his  followers  swell, 

To  hundreds,  thousands,  more  ; 
And  still,  the  growing  numbers  tell 

Of  an  increasing  store 
Of  loyal  hearts,  prepared  to  bring, 
Back  to  his  throne  their  lord  and  king  ! 
And  still  the  host  increases.     See, 
That  swelling  throng  !   How  reverently 
They  press  about  him  !   How  his  grief 
Makes  mute  appeal  for  their  relief; 
As  he,  by  sorrow  overborne  ; 
With  covered  head  and  garments  torn, 
Turned  from  his  kingly  state  away  ; 
From  home  ;  and  from  the  sweet  array 
Of  influences  that  distill ; 
Gently,  as  dew  on  Sion's  Hill, 
For  those  that  truly  know  the  Lord, 
And  love  the  treasures  of  His  word ! 


60  THE    ARK     OF 

And  so  he  loved  the  Holy  Place ; 

The  Ark  :  the  Mercy-Seat ;  the  Light 
Of  glory  from  the  symbol  face 

Of  the  Shechinah  !   But  the  site 
Of  all  its  treasures,  now,  no  more 
Made  portion  of  his  kingly  store  ! 
And  Zadok  answered  to  this  thought  ; 
And  with  a  band  of  Levites  brought 
The  Ark  from  its  own  place  to  share 
The  burdens  he  was  called  to  bear  ! 
But  now,  the  Ark  would  be,  to  him 

Shorn  of  its  glory.     For  the  light, 
That  dwelt  between  the  Cherubim, 

Showed  not  its  radiance  in  his  sight ! 
That  glorious  Sign  of  pard'ning  grace, 
Would  show  the  the  hiding  of  his  face  ? 
The  Mercy-Seat  would  yield,  no  more, 
Its  gracious  counsels  as  before  ; 
But  dark  and  silent  now  the  Shrine, 
That  echoed  with  the  voice  divine  ? 
So,  said  the  king,  take  back  the  Ark. 
For,  while  my  path  lies  in  the  dark, 
He>  only  He,  can  give  me  light ! 
If  I    find  favor  in  His  sight, 
I  shall  again,  behold  His  face, 
And  worship  in  the  Holy  Place. 


THE     COVENANT.  6l 

But,  if  from  me  He  turn  away ; 
And  by  his  dealings,  seem  to  say, 
"/  have  no  pleasure  in  thee!'     Lo  ! 
Here  I  am  :  prepared  to  know, 
And  own  the  pleasure  of  my  Lord; 
And  bow  before  His  Sovereign  word  ! 
And  this  is  Faith — the  spirit-rest 

Of  him  that  knows,  but  cannot  see  ; 
That  leans  upon  the  Saviour's  breast 

In  storm  as  in  tranquility  ; 
And  waits,  as  for  the  dawning  day, 
Until  the  shadows  pass  away : 
That  lets  the  blessed  sunshine  in, 

When  darkness  seems  to  veil  the  sky ; 
And  'midst  Earth's  deserts,  feels  within, 

The  movings  of  a  spring  of  joy ; 
Which,  'mid  the  desert's  sands  and  strife, 
Springs  up  to  everlasting  life  ! 

Oh !   not  in  the  Ark,  as  a  Symbol  divine, 
Do  we  meet  the  rich  treasures  of  truth 
and  of  grace. 
We  see  them  alone,  when  in   Jesus  they 
shine, 
In  that  fullness  of  glory,  no  mortal  can 
trace. 


62  THE    ARK. 

For   He,  in  Himself  is    the    fullness    ex- 
pressed 
In  the  symbols  that  grouped  round  the 
Ark  of  the  Lord. 
And  the  beams  of  the  beauty  on  all  things 
impressed 
Are  but  shades  of  the   glories  that  in 
Him  are  stored  ! 
No.  Not  in  the  Ark  !  That  is  only  a  Sign  ! 
Tis  the  God  of  the  Ark,  who  bestows 
all  the  power. 
And  that  moves  the  heart,  by  an  impulse 
divine — 
As    only  the    sunbeam    can    open    the 
flower ! 

The  shrines  of  the  Temple  may  glitter-  in 
gold  ; 
The  rites  of  the  Holy-Place  wait  on  our 
call; 
The    riches    of    art    may    leave    nothing 
untold — 
But  one  beam  of  His  brightness  would 
darken  them  all  I 


Miscellaneous  Poems. 


THE    BLIND   WEAVER. 


A  Weaver  sat  at  his  Loom, 

A  blind  old  man  was  he ; 
And  he  saw  not  one  of  the  Shuttle's 
threads, 

Which  he  wrought  so  cunningly ; 
But  his  fingers  touched  each  line, 

As  the  pattern  before  him  grew  : 
And  the  sunset  gleam  of  a  smile  divine, 

Its  light  o'er  his  features  threw : 
As,  plying  his  work  to  a  slight  refrain, 
He  sang  it  over  and  over  again  : — 
Light  and  Darkness  and  Shade  ; 

Shade  and  Darkness  and  Light  : 
We  can  never  tell  how  the  pattern  s  made, 

Till  the  fabric  is  turned  in  our  sight ! 

And  slowly  the  fabric  grew ; 

As  his  shuttle,  from  side  to  side, 
With  a  cunning  turn  of  his  wrist  he  threw, 

And  its  lines  were  multiplied. 
But  still,  the  surface  was  rough, 
"*4 


66  THE     BLIND     WEAVER. 

And  the  pattern  you  could  not  trace  : 
For  the  threads  seemed  blindly  broken  off, 

And  showed  neither  beauty  nor  grace ; 
But  he  plied  his  work,  to  a  slight  refrain, 
And  crooned  it,  o'er  and  o'er  again  : — 
Light  and  Darkness  and  Shade  : 

Shade  and  Darkness  and  Light, 
We  never  can  tell  what  the  patterns  made, 

Till  the  fabric  is  turned  in  our  sight ! 

And  thus  at  the  Loom  of  Life, 

Like  that  blind,  old  Weaver,  we 
Are  working  the  threads  of  our  own 
designs, 

To  a  pattern  we  do  not  see  ! 
And  still,  with  a  patient  love, 

That  is  wiser  far  than  we  know : 
There  is  One  that  looks  from  His  Throne 
above, 

And  directs  the  shuttle's  throw. 
And  spite  of  our  broken  threads, 

He  is  working  His  Great  Design  ; 
And  the  Pattern  that  seemed  unmeaning 
here, 

With  a  heavenly  grace  shall  shine  ! 
So,  we'll  ply  our  work  to  the  old  refrain. 


THE     RAINB  0  W.  67 

And  sing  it  o'er  and  o'er  again  ; 
Light  and  Darkness  and  Shade : 

Shade  and  Darkness  and  Light 
Shall  have  done  their  work  when  the 

Pattern  s  made, 
And  the  Fabric  is  held  up  to  sight  I 


THE  RAINBOW. 


1. 
Up  from  the  West,  dark,  sullen,  proud, 

It  rolled  along  the  sky  ; 
The  summer's  first-born  thunder  cloud, 

In  gloomy  majesty  : 
And  distant  mutterings,  deep  and  loud, 

Told  that  the  storm  was  nigh  : 
While  the  large  raindrops'  pattering 

sound, 
Seemed  to  rejoice  the  thirsty  ground  ! 

2. 

It  came  at  last  ;  a  sudden  flash 

Of  most  bedazzling  light, 
To  which  the  Thunder's  deep-toned  crash 

Responded  in  its  might, 


68  7  HE    RAINBOW. 

And  the  rain  as  it  rushed,  with  sudden 
dash, 
Like  diamond-sparks  grew  bright, 
As  the  the  Lightning  sent  its  fiery  gleam, 
Athwart  the  drops  of  its  falling  stream. 

3- 

And  then  it  ceased.     The  setting  sun 
Shone  forth  with  brilliant  ray  ; 

As  if  its  best  work  must  be  done 
To  crown  the  closing  day. 

And  heavy  drops  of  dew  bent  down 
Each  twig  and  leaf  and  spray : 

And  birds  poured  forth  their  songs,  to 
greet 

The  gladsome  scene  with  welcome  meet. 

4- 
And  as,  with  the  resplendent  glow, 

The  Western  Clouds  grew  bright ; 
Athwart  the  sky,  Heaven's  beauteous  Bow 

Rose  trembling  on  the  sight ; 
And  seemed  to  cast  on  all  below, 

A  new  and  heavenly  light ; 
Which  seemed,  with  radiance  more  divine. 
On  all  within  its  arch  to  shine. 


THE      R  A  IN  B  O  W ,  69 

Sweet  Bow  of  Promise  !     As  I  gaze, 

Upon  thy  radiant  form  ; 
I  think  of  Him,  whos  glory  plays 

In  light  above  the  storm  : 
And  makes  their  iridescent  rays 

To  His  sure  word  conform  : 
More  than  Philosophy  can  teach, 
Thou  tellest  in  thy  silent  speech  ! 

6. 

And  still,  as  through  the  changing  years, 

The  clouds  arise  in  view  ; 
The  sunbeam,  at  His  word  appears, 

To  pierce  its  darkness  through  : 
And  Nature's  smiles  and  Nature's  tears 

The  gracious  pledge  renew  : 
And  bear  to  distant  lands,  the  Sign 
Of  Grace  and  Mercy  all  divine ! 


76  HOW    THE     TROUT 

HOW    THE    TROUT   SWALLOWED 
THE  BARBEL; 

OR, 
A  LETTER  TO  A  YOUNG  SCIENTIST. 


1  There's  mony  a  fact  we  kenfu1  weel ; 
But  canna  tell  the  reason  <?'  it. ' ' 


Dear  Ned  : — You  Scientists  forget, 

That,  when  explaining  Nature's  wonders, 
You  need  some  place  in  which  to  set 

Her  worshipers'  most  flagrant  blunders. 
Though  as  to  facts  you  all  agree ; 
There's  anything  but  harmony 
When  you  explain  them.     And  for  one, 

I  scarcely  know  the  vagary 
That  was  not  held  in  days  long  gone  ; 

— Nay,    even    named    with    commenda- 
tion— 
By  those  who  served  the  Altar-fire 

Of  Science,  in  their  generation, 
And  so,  Dear  Ned,  when  you  aspire 

To  tread  the  path  they've  marked  before 
you  ; 
And,  just  to  raise  a  little  higher, 


SWALLOWED     THE    BARBEL,        yi 

The  veil  of  darkness,  hanging  o'er  you  ; 
Pray,  don't  forget,  the  facts  may  be, 

Precisely  as  you  represent  them  ; 
And  yet,  because  you  fail  to  see 

Some  other  fact,  undoubtedly, 

Your  most  ingenious  theory 
Will  fail  to  state  the  truth  anent  them. 
The  facts  may  be  as  you've  discerned  ; 

And  seem  a  most  prodigious  wonder. 
But,  when  that  other  fact  is  learned 

Your  theory  will  prove  a  blunder! 
This  is  the  truth  as  I  would  state  it ; 
And  now  proceed  to  name  and  date  it.* 

*  A  Story  with  a  Moral. 

Professor  Owen,  at  the  annual  soiree  of  the  Leeds  Mechanics' 
Institution,  related  the  following  anecdote  : — Some  of  the  work- 
ing scientific  men  of  London  with  a  few  others,  have  formed  a 
sort  of  club ;  and  after  our  winter's  work  of  lecturing  is  over  we 
occasionally  sally  forth  to  have  a  day's  fishing.  We  have  for 
that  purpose  taken  a  small  river  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  me- 
tropolis, and  near  its  banks  there  stands  a  little  public  house, 
where  we  dine  soberly  and  sparingly  on  such  food  as  old  Izaak 
Walton  loved.  We  have  a  rule  that  he  who  catches  the  biggest 
fish  of  the  day  shall  be  our  president  for  the  evening.  In  the 
course  of  one  day  a  member,  not  a  scientific  man  but  a  high  po- 
litical man,  caught  a  trout  that  weighed  3^  lbs.,  but  early  in 
the  clay  he  had  pulled  out  a  barbel  of  yz  lb.  weight.  So  while 
we  were  on  the  way  to  our  inn,  what  did  this  political  gentleman 
do  but  with  the  butt  end  of  his  rod   ram  the  barbel  down  the 


72  HOW    THE     TR0U1 

Some  scientists  of  high  renown, 
Wearied  with  labors  in  the  Town, 
Agreed  to  lay  aside  their  books, 

trout's  throat  (loud  laughter),  in  which  state  he  handed  the  fish 
to  be  weighed.  Thus  he  scored  4  lbs.,  which  being  the  greatest 
weight  he  took  the  chair.  As  we  were  going  away  for  home  a 
man  of  science — it  was  the  President  of  the  Royal  Society — said 
to  the  man  of  politics.  "  If  you  don't  want  that  fine  fish  of  yours 
I  should  like  to  have  it,  for  I  have  some  friends  to  dine  with 
me  to-morrow."  My  lord  took  it  home,  and  I  heard  no  more 
until  we  met  on  the  next  week.  Then,  while  we  were  pre- 
paring our  tackle,  the  President  of  the  Royal  Society  said  to 
our  high  political  friend.  "  There  were  some  very  extraordinary 
circumstances,  do  you  know,  about  that  fish  you  gave  me. 
(Laughter).  I  had  no  idea  that  the  trout  was  so  voracious; 
but  that  one  had  swallowed  a  barbel.-'  "  I  am  astonished  to 
hear  your  lordship  say  so,"  rejoined  an  eminent  naturalist;  trout 
may  be  voracious  enough  to  swallow  minnows — but  a  barbel, 
my  lord  !  There  must  be  some  mistake."  "Not  at  all,"  re- 
plied his  lordship,  "for  the  fact  got  to  my  family  that  the  cook, 
in  cutting  open  the  trout,  had  found  a  barbel  inside;  and  as  my 
family  knew  I  was  fond  of  natural  history  I  was  called  into  the 
kitchen.  There  I  saw  it ;  the  trout  had  swallowed  a  barbel  full 
half  a  pound  weight."  "Out  of  the  question,  my  lord,"  said 
the  naturalist;  "it's  altogether  quite  unscientific  and  unphilo- 
sophical."  "  I  don't  know  what  may  be  philosophical  in  the 
matter — I  only  know  I  am  telling  you  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  his 
lordship;  and  the  dispute  having  lasted  awhile,  explanations 
were  given,  and  the  practical  joke  was  heartily  enjoyed.  And 
(continued  Professor  Owen)  you  will  see  that  both  were  right 
and  both  wjre  wrong.  My  lord  was  right  in  his  fact — the  bar- 
bel was  inside  the  trout ;  but  he  was  quite  wrong  in  his  hypothe- 
sis founded  upon  that  fact,  that  the  trout  bad  therefore  swallowed 
the  barbel— the  last  was  only  matter  of  opinion. 


SWALLOWED     THE    BARBEL.      73 

And  try  their  luck  with  lines  and  hooks. 
In  other  words,  to  set  about 
The  glorious  work  of  catching  trout  ! 
So,  to  the  country  they  proceeded, 
Supplied  with  all  that  most  they  needed  ; 
And  sought  both  health  and  recreation, 
In  spending  thus  a  short  vacation. 
They  then  resolved — those  learned  men 
did — 

That  he,  who  scored  the  heaviest  trout, 
Should  be  adjudged  to  have  ascended 

— Worthily,  too,  beyond  all  doubt — 
To  the  first  honors  won  by  them, 
And  be  their  President  pro  tern  ! 

Among  their  number,  there  was  one,  who 

Loved  a  joke  beyond  his  brothers  ; 
And  who  his  task  had  never  gone  through, 

Without  a  laugh  upon  the  others  ! 
He  was,  besides,  a  politician  : 
And  saw,  as  an  astute  logician, 
Whatever  Fortune  thought  of  sending, 
That  promised  help  to  gain  his  end  in. 
And  so,  he  chanced  to  catch  a  trout, 
That  weighed  some  seven  half:pounds 
about; 


74 


HO  W     THE     TROUT 


A  barbel  *  too,  of  half-pound  more  ; 

And  these,  combined,  would  win  the  score. 

Because  a  four-pound  Trout  would  be, 

So  rare  a  thing,  that  really, 

The  one  that  caught  it  might  be  sure, 

To  him,  the  honors  would  enure ! 

And  so  it  proved.    The  Chair,  that  night, 

Was  voted  to  the  Politician  ; 
Who  made  the  evening  session,  bright 

With  all  the  tricks  of  the  Logician  ; 
Who  scattered  story,  song  and  joke, 
About  him,  in  whate'er  he  spoke: 
Like  diamonds  when  their  string  is  broke ! 

The  four  pound  Trout  had  caught  the  eye 
Of  the  one  Lord  our  Club  possessed  ; 

And  when  its  owner,  graciously, 

Asked  his  acceptance  of  it,  he 

Pronounced  himself  extremely  bless'd  ! 

That  night  the  Club  adjourned :  and  when, 
In  a  few  days,  they  met  again, 
A  look  of  most  intense  surprise, 

*  The  Barbel — Barbus  Vulgaris — is  a  fresh-water  fish  ;  whose 
upper  jaw  is  furnished  with  four  barbels,  or  beard-like  appendges, 


S  WA  LL  O  WED     THE     BARBEL, 


75 


Flashed  forth  from  both  his  Lorship's 

eyes — 
u  There's  something  strange  about  that 
Trout,  Sir. 
For,  after  all  that  we  have  heard  ; 
I  do  declare,  without  a  doubt,  Sir 
The  Trout's  carnivorous  !  " 

"Absurd!" 

Burst  forth  from  all  the  members,  there. 
"  Absurd  or  not,  I  do  declare, 
That,  when  my  Cook  prepared  the  Fish, 
And  laid  it  lengthwise  on  the  dish  ; 

I  saw  the  Barbel  in  the  Trout ! 

And  what,  from  this,  can  you  make  out, 
But  that  he  swallowed  it  ?  " 

"  No  doubt, 
The  Fish  was  there,  as  you  explain  ! 
But,  how  it  got  there,  must  remain, 
A  thing  unknown  !     But  then  my  Lord, 
Was  never  blunder  so  absurd, 

As  Barbel  swallowed  by  a  Trout!  " 

Just  then,  with  merry  twinkling  eye, 
The  Politician  made  reply  : — 

II  You  see,  that  I  was  bound  to  gain, 

The  Presidency  of  our  Club  ? 


76       THE     TROUT    AND    BARBEL. 

But  all  my  hopes  of  this  were  vain, 

Unless — and  there  came  in  the  rub — - 
I  scored  the  heaviest  fish  ;  and  so, 
As  homeward  we  prepared  to  go, 
This  little  scheme  came  in  my  mind — 
"  The  barbel  and  the  troul  combined, 
Would  give  me  every  member  s  vote  ;  " 

'Twas  done  as  soon  as  it  was  planned— '- 
So,  lingering  purposely  behind, 

I  caught  the  Trout  up  in  my  hand, 
And  rammed  the  Barbel  down  its  throat ! 

And  now  Dear  Ned  !  my  meaning's  plain. 

In  every  theory,  word  and  act, 
Would  you  a  sound  conclusion  gain  ? 

Be  sure  you've  learned  that  other  fact ! 
Because  you  see,  if  from  the  chain 

Of  your  causation,  you  omit 
One  single  link  :  it's  very  plain, 

Your  argument's  not  worth  a  nit ! 
Grant,  that  the  Barbel's  in  the  Trout ! 

But  how  it  got  there,  is  the  question  ? 
And  when  you  fail  to  make  it  out, 

Because  you  have  no  facts  to  rest  on  ; 
Be  sure,  not  e'en  to  gain  a  vote, 
Dont  ram  your  Barbel  down  its  throat! 


SOWING    BESIDE    ALL     WATERS.  77 

SOWING  BESIDE  ALL  WATERS. 


I  dropped  a  Seed  in  the  earth, 
And  I  could  not  trace  it  there ; 

But  it  grew  by  the  hidden  Law  of  its  Birth, 
To  a  Flowret,  sweet  and  rare. 

I  struck  a  Chord  in  the  soul 
Of  one  who  had  music  within  ; 

And  it  grew  to  a  Song  whose  sweet  control 
Is  heard  'mid  the  world's  harsh  din  ! 

I  breathed  a  Hope  in  the  heart, 
Of  one  who  was  bowed  by  care  ; 

And    it  grew,  like  a  rainbow    out    of  the 
clouds, 
When  the  Sun  was  shining  there. 

And  the  Flower  is  blooming  still, 

For  the  Truth  can  never  die  ; 
And  the  Music  is  working  its  own  sweet 
will, 

To  the  fullest  harmony ! 


78  DAILY    BLESSINGS. 

And  the  Hope  that  is  born  of  Love, 
Like  the  Love  can  never  grow  old  ; 

But  it  spreads  its  wings  for  its  Home  above, 
—  For  its  best  was  never  told  ! 


DAILY  BLESSINGS. 


The  blessings  of  our  daily  Life, 

How  manifold  they  be  ! 
And  how,  amid  this  dark  world's  strife, 

Their  quiet  harmony 
Comes,  with  a  sweet  persuading  power, 
As  comes  the  dew-drop  to  the  flower ; 

Or  murmurs  of  the  sea, 
To  the  tired  mariner,  at  rest, 
In  peace  upon  the  Ocean's  breast ! 

From  the  first  moment  of  our  birth, 

While  we  our  lot  fulfill  ; 
Our  passage  up  and  down  the  earth, 

Is  marked  by  blessings  still. 
Countless  as  dew-drops  on  the  lea  ; 
Or  sand,  tossed  by  the  raging  sea, 

They  speak  His  gracious  will ; 


DAILY    BLESSINGS.  79 

And  on  our  heads  the  burdens  lay, 
Of  blessings  we  can  ne'er  repay  ! 

I  cannot  tell  the  sweep  and  range 

Of  all  these  gifts  to  me  ; 
Or  estimate  the  wondrous  change, 

The  loss  of  one  would  be  ! 
I  only  know  the  music  deep, 
The  low,  sweet,  full,  orchestral  sweep 

Of  perfect  harmony, 
The  grateful  spirit  seeks  to  bring, 
Of  tribute  to  its  Heavenly  King  ! 

'Tis  good  to  feel  a  heavenly  birth, 
Though  fashioned  from  the  sod ; 

And  know  that  something  not  of  earth, 
Lifts  me  above  the  clod  ! 

To  know  myself  derived  from  Thee — 

And  feel  my  immortality, 
A  part  of  Thine,  O  God  ! 

Whatever  may  other  bosoms  fill, 

This,  this  is  something  nobler  still  ! 

And  now  I  seem  some  marks  to  trace, 

Of  what  Thyself  must  be  ; 
Hid  ;  not  obscurely,  in  the  grace, 


go  LETTER. 

Of  these,  Thy  gifts  to  me  ! 
Each  one  is  earnest  to  proclaim, 
Some  syllable  of  Thy  dear  Name  ; 

Or  fondly  speak  of  Thee  : 
And  all  combined,  show  forth  Thy  praise, 
And  tribute  to  Thy  glory  raise. 

And  thus,  as  I  Thy  gifts  recount, 
There's  such  a  boundless  store 

Drawn  from  Thine  own  exhaustless  Fount 
My  cup  is  running  o'er. 

Free  as  the  air  they  come  to  all ; 

Noiseless  as  snowflakes  in  their  fall  ; 
And  yet  Thou  meanest  more  ? 

For  ne'er  is  Thy  best  blessing  found, 

Till  with  Thyself,  Thy  gifts  are  crowned  ! 


LETTER 

FROM    MISS     KATE    ,    TO    A    YOUNG 

FRIEND    ABOUT  THE  DARWINIAN 
PHILOSOPHY. 


Dear  Dolly: — Just  think   now!     It's  not 

so  at  all ! 
After  all  we  have  heard  of  our  loss  by  the 

Fall; 


L  E  TT E  R  .  81 

The  New  Lights  of  Science  now  make  it 

quite  clear, 
That  that's  not  the  cause  of  our  sinning, 

My  Dear ! 

Papa  says,  our  preachers  will  now,  have  to 
change 

The  field  of  their  vision,  and  take  a  new 

range ; 
For  the  world  has,  at  last,  grown  too  wise 

to  believe, 
That  old  woman's  story  of  Adam  and  Eve  ! 

He  says  Mr.  Darwin  conclusively  shows, 
That  Man  was  not  made  in  his  present 
fair  shape  ! 
He  was  not  created,  as  some  folks  suppose  ; 
But  slowly  evolved  from  the  Monkey  or 
Ape.* 

*  Note. — "  Man  is  descended  from  a  hairy  quadruped,  fur- 
nished with  a  tail  and  pointed  ears;  probably  arboreal  in  its 
habits;  and  an  inhabitant  of  the  Old  World.1'  See  Darwin's 
Descent  of  Man,  Vol.  II,  p.  372  {Appleton  s  Ed.) 

i(  In  a  series  of  forms,  graduating  insensibly,  from  some  ape- 
like creature,  to  Man  as  he  new  exists,'-  etc.  Ibid,  Vol  I,  p. 
226. 

"The  early  ape-like  progenitor  of  Man."      Ibid.  Vol.  I,  p. 
81  and  83,  etc.      "  Man,  alone  has  become  a  biped."     Ibid.  Vol. 
i;  P.  135- 
5 


§2  LETTER. 

But  who  made  the  Monkey,  he  could  not 
explain  ; 
And  so,  answered  sharply,  "  Now  Kate, 
I  must  beg, 
That  you  will  not  expose  thus,  your  folly 
again — 
Don't  you  know  that  he  came  from  the 
primitive  egg^' 

But  what  that  egg  came  from ;  or  how  it 
was  hatched, 
Is  more  than  this  poor  brain  of  mine  can 
conceive. 
Or,   that  the    first    ovum,  like  quilt-work, 
was  patched 
With  all  shapes  ot  Life,is  too  much  to 
believe  !* 


*  Note. — It  is  evident  that  Miss  Kate  had  not  profited  by 
her  reading.  For,  had  not  Hugh  Miller  put  into  the  mouth  of 
the  Larnarckian  Philosopher  this  comprehensive  declaration  : 

— "  Where  that  ditch  now  opens,  the  generations  of  the  man 
atop,  lived,  died,  and  were  developed.  There  flourished  and 
decayed,  his  great,  great,  great,  great  grandfather,  the  sea-pen; 
his  great,  great,  great  grandfather,  the  mussel ;  his  great,  great 
grandfather,  the  herring;  his  greatgrandfather,  the  frog;  his 
grandfather,  the  porpoise:  and  his  father  the  monkey."  Foot- 
Prints  of  the  Creator,  p.  2 1 9. 


L  E  T  TE  R.  83 

There's  Father  !  I'm  sure  now  that  people 
must  own, 
That  he's  noble  and  manly — quite  free 
from  low  sins — 
And  his  father  and  his — why  as    you  go 
down 
Pray  where  ;    tell  me  where  ;   this  new 
process  begins  ? 

It  must  begin  somewhere  !     For  don't  you 
suppose, 
If  monkeys  were  given  to  turn  into  men, 
We  should  sometimes  fall  in  with  the  cases 
of  those, 
Who  were  only  some  half-way  between 
them  ?     And  then — 

It  would  be  too  funny  !     Part  Monkey  part 
Man! 
The  one  fading  gradu'ly  off  to  the  other  ; 
Till  what  as  the  meanest  of  monkeys  began, 

Should  end  in  the  silly  Miss  ,   or 

her  Brother  ! 

Perhaps  too,  it  is  so  !     Papa  says  it's  clear. 
How  else  could  it  be,  that  the  very  same 
men, 


34  LETTER. 

Should,  one  day,  so  noble  and  manly  ap- 
pear ; 
And  the    next  taper   off  into    monkey 
again  ? 

But  isn't  it  awful  ?     Now,  think  of  it  Dear  ; 

For,    just    as    you're    thinking,    you're 

something  quite  fine; 

And  how  lovely  the  names  of  your  kindred 

appear, 

To  find  an  old  ape  at  the  end  of  the  line  ? 

But  Pa  says,  There's  one  thing  that  can't 
be  explained  ; 
One  question,  to  solve  which  no  labors 
avail. 
Can  you  guess  what  it  is  ?     After  all  they 
have  gained, 
They  can  give  110  account  of  his  losing 
his  tail!* 


He  had  one — that's    certain  !     He's  lost 
it — that's  clear  ! 

*  Note. — «  No  explanation,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  has  been 
given  of  the  loss  of  the  tail,  by  certain  apes  and  by  Man.''  Dar- 
win's Descent  of  Man,  Vol.  I,  p.  144  [Appleton's  Ed.). 


LETTER.  85 

But   how  he  could  lose  it  no  one   can 

divine  ! 
And  so,  we  must  face  the  conclusion,  My 

Dear  ; 
The  facts  are  too  short,  at  one  end  of 

the  line  ! 

And,  Dolly  \  you'll  hear  this  with  greater 
surprise ; 
That  Language   was    not    God's   great 
gift  unto  Man  ; 
For  it  chanced,  that  an  Ape,*  most   un- 
commonly wise, 
Was  the  first  who  attempted  to  outline 
the  plan  ! 

He  thought  it  would   be  a    nice  thing  to 
achieve 
Some  signal  of  danger  to  tell  of  the  foe  ! 
And  the  growl  of  some  beast  was  the  first, 
I  believe, 
To  hint,  how  from  that  source  a  Lan- 
guage might  grow. 

*  Note. — It  does  not  appear  altogether  incredible,  that  some 
unusually  wise,  ape-like  animal,  should  have  thought  of  imitat- 
ing the  growl  of  a  beast  of  prey  ;  so  as  to  indicate  the  nature  of 
the  expected  danger.  And  this  would  have  been  the  first  step 
in  formation  of  a  language."     Ibid.  Vol.  1,  p.  55. 


S6  LETTER. 

It  didn't  seem  much.  But  as  Ape  after  Ape 
Worked  away  at  the  thing,  perhaps  it 

might  be 
That  this  germ  of  Language  might  grow 

to  such  shape, 
As  to  please  e'en  a  Shakspeare  or  Milton 

you  see. 

And  now,  Is  there  anything  further  required 
To  show  how  these  new  lights  break  out 
into  flame  ? 
Yes  !  The  truth  is  that  hunger  itself  was 
acquired, 
To  give  us  the  pleasure  of  feeding  the 
same  !  * 

I  know  it  seems  strange  !     But  the  reason 
for  that  is, 
You've  gone  on  so  long,  without  using 
the  light  ; 
That  now,  when  you  get  all  these  fine  teach- 
ings, gratis, 
You're  almost  too  timid  to  take  in  the 
sight  ? 

"x"  NOTE.  "  In  the  same  manner,  as  the  sense  of  hunger  and 
the  pleasure  of  eating  were,  no  doubt,  first  acquired  ;  in  order 
to  induce  animals  to  eat."      Ibid,  p.  77. 


L E  TT E  R . 


87 


But  as  for  myself,  I  must  tell  you,  my  dear, 
/  mean  to  hold  on  to  the  old-fashioned 
Creed  ; 
For  these  New  Lights  of  Science  burn 
dimly  I  fear, 
When  set  up  in  seasons  of  darkness  and 
need. 

There's  nothing  that  teaches  so  truly  to 
live : 
There's  nothing  that  fits  us  so  sweetly 
to  die ; 
There's  nothing  such  fullness  of  blessings 
can  give, 
As  the  wisdom  the  truths  about  Jesus 
supply ! 

For  they  arch  every  lot  with  a  glory  divine, 
And  a  radiance  excelling  the  Bow  from 
above ; 
As  they  teach  us,  in  weakness  and  want  to 
recline, 
Like  a  babe  on  the  bosom  of  Infinite 
Love  ! 


A     LESSON    OF    FAITH. 


A  LESSON  OF  FAITH, 


T. 


'Twas  a  cold  December  morning, 
And  the  air  was  filled  with  sleet : 

And  the  wind  was  surging  fiercely, 

Down  the  glazed  and  ice-bound  street; 

When  I  heard  a  gentle  tapping, 
Mid  the  dashing  of  the  rain  ; 

As  if  something  asked  assistance, 
Tapping  on  my  window-pane  ! 
Tapping  ;  tapping  ;  gently  tapping  : 
Tapping  on  my  window-pane  ! 


I  looked ;  and  right  before  me, 

A  little  sparrow  stood. 
And  he  turned  his  bright  eye  on  me, 

In  mute  appeal  for  food  ; 
He  was  not  long  in  waiting  ; 

Nor  did  he  ask  in  vain  ! 
For  I  yearned  to  help  the  lone  one, 

Tapping  on  my  window-pane : 


APPLE    BLOSSOMS.  89 

Tapping ;  tapping  ;  gently  tapping  ; 
Tapping  on  my  window-pane  ! 


And  I'll  think  when  storms  are  round  me, 
And  I  shrink  before  the  blast ; 

Of  a  glorious  place  of  Refuge, 
That  will  shield  me  to  the  last ! 

And  the  sparrow  still  shall  teach  me  ; 
As  I  hear  the  low  refrain, 

Of  his  bold,  yet  gentle,  tapping  ; 
Tapping  on  my  window-pane  : 
Tapping  ;  tapping  ;  gently  tapping  : 
Tapping  on  my  window-pane  ! 


APPLE-BLOSSOMS. 


I'm  standing  by  the  old  Tree,  Ned ! 

The  same  Old  Apple-Tree : 
Where  you  and  I  together,  played, 

When  our  young  life  was  free ! 
And  Memory,  through  the  mist  of  years, 

And  wanderings,  to  and  fro; 
5* 


g0  APPLE     BLOSSOMS. 

Brings  back  again  the  smiles  and  tears 
Of  Forty  Years  ago  ! 

There,  is  the  School- House  down  the  lane  ; 

The  grove  of  Chestnuts  nigh  it ; 
The  Stile,  the  Meadows  and  the  Brook, 

And  the  old  Spring-House  nigh  it. 
The  little  Brook  runs,  rippling,  by 

The  path  we  used  to  go  : 
And  sings,  with  silvery  tone,  its  song 

Of  Forty  Years  ago  ! 

The  Tree  is  gnarled  and  moss-grown, 
Ned! 

That  was  so  vig'rous  then. 
For  Time,  its  marks  on  it  has  spread, 

As  well  as  on  us,  men. 
But  yet,  its  blossoms  are  as  bright, 

And  make  as  fair  a  show, 
As  when  we  plucked  them,  with  delight, 

Just  Forty  Years  ago  ! 

It's  strange,  that  there  should  be  so  much 
Of  thought's  most  subtle  power. 

Awakened  by  the  electric  touch, 
Of  this  most  simple  flower  ! 


THE     DAY    OF     THE     LORD.  9I 

For  there — I  pluck  it  from  its  bough ; 

And  now — before  I  know — 
I'm  living  o'er  again  the  scenes, 

Of  Forty  Years  ago ! 


THE  DAY  OF  THE  LORD. 


For  the  Day  of  the  Lord  will  come  as  a  thief  in  the 


night. ' 


Oh,  the   Lord  will   come  !  Let   His   saints 
rejoice  : 
For  He  cometh  to  take  them  Home  : 
As  they  sleep  in  the  dust,  they  shall  hear 
His  voice, 
When  the  promised  Hour  has  come. 
They  shall  rise  from  the  dead,  with  a  noise- 
less tread, 
As  its  accents  reach  their  ear  : 
But  the  world  around,  shall  hear  no  sound, 
And  see  no  cause  of  fear. 

Oh,  to  the  soul  that  trusts  His  Word, 
A  glorious  hope  is  the  Coming  Lord! 


92  THE    DAY    OF     THE     LORD. 

The  Lord  will  come  as  a  thief  in  the  night; 

And  His  work  shall  be  going  on, 
And  by  those  alone  that  watch  for  the  light, 

Shall  his  working  thus  be  known  ! 
From  the  worldling's  side,  shall  the  Chris- 
tian Bride, 
Be  noiselessly  taken  away  ; 
And  two,  at  the  mill,  shall  be  grinding  still, 

And  but  one  shall  see  the  day. 
As  Enoch  was  sought  for,  but  was  not  found, 

So  shall  the  righteous  be  : 
For    them,    on    the    earth,    or    under    the 
ground, 
No  more  shall  the  worldling  see. 
From  their  place  of  rest,  on  the  mountain's 
crest, 
Or  scattered  like  dust,  on  the  sod  : 
With  the  living  saints  there,  caught  up  in 
the  air, 
To  meet  with  their  Saviour  and  God  ; 
Coming  to  fulfill  His  Word, 
Oh,  a   glorious  hope  is  the    Coming 
Lord! 

The   Lord  will   come  ;  and  there   by  His 
side, 


THE     DAY     OF     THE     LORD. 


93 


Shall  His  waiting  people  stand  ; 
Sharing  His  state,  as  His  Chosen  Bride, 

A  bright  and  a  happy  band. 
He  comes,  with  the  angel's  terrible  voice, 
With  the  shout  and  the  trump  of  God : 
And   the  heavens   are   bent  in   His   swift 
descent, 
To  the  earth,  which  His  feet  had  trod. 
Oh,  Woe   to    His  foes,  on  that  Day  of  His 
wrath  ; 
And  Woe  to  the  Man  of  Sin  ! 
For  Judgment  shall  swiftly  sweep  down  on 
His  path, 
And  the  Day  of  the  Lord  begin. 
And  thro'  the  long  sweep  of  its  thousand 
years, 
Shall  His  glorious  reign  extend  : 
And  His  Kingdom  of  Peace  shall  go  on  to 
increase, 
Till  it's  lost  in  the  aoe  without  end! 
Oh  !   to  the  soul  that  slights  His  Word, 
A  fearful  thought  is  the  Coming  Lord  ! 


94        WAIT  AWEEL    AND    DINNA   WEARY, 

"WAIT   AWEEL   AND   DINNA 
WEARY." 

{Scotch  Proverb.) 


"  Wait  aw  eel  a1  id  dinna  weary" 

Though  the  night  be  cold  and  long. 
If  the  early  dawn  be  dreary, 

Every  morn  has  its  own  song. 
Winter  brings  its  snows  and  tempests, 

But  they  do  not  beat  in  vain  ; 
Spring  and  Summer  show  for  answer, 

Smiling  flowers  and  ripening  grain. 

"  Wait  aweel  and  dinna  weary" 

Though  the  sky  be  overcast. 
If  the  Harvest  seems  to  tarry, 

Thou  shalt  bind  the  sheaves  at  last. 
Sow  in  sunlight,  nothing  doubting  ; 

Sow  in  hope  of  things  to  come : 
And  the  Angel  Reapers,  shouting, 

Soon  shall  sing  the  Harvest  Home ! 


THE    CIRCLE    OF    BLESSINGS.  95 

THE  CIRCLE  OF  BLESSINGS. 


"  And  it  shall  come  to  pass,  saith  the  Lord,  I  7l>HI 
hear  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  hear  the  heavens,  and  they 
shall  hear  the  earth  ; 

"  And  the  earth  shall  hear  the  earn,  and  the  wine 
and  the  oil ;  and  they  shall  hear  Jezreel." — Hosea  ii  : 
21,  22. 

Creation's  avast  Harp  ;  and  all  the  moods, 

That  over  it  are  straying ; 
Are  but  the  echoes  of  the  interludes 

God's  Hand  on  it  is  playing. 

Nought    stands     alone.       Each     creature 
makes  reply, 

To  other  creature's  pleading  ; 
And  round  the  Universe,  there  floats  the  cry 

Of  all  that  it  is  needing. 

The  silent  cry.     Its  needis  still,  the  speech, 

With  which  it  tells  its  story  ; 
And   every   blade  of  grass,  with   this,  can 
reach 

The  clouds  in  far-off  glory  ! 


9 6  THE    CIRCLE    OF   BLESSINGS. 

The  violet  whispers  with  its  sweetest  smiles, 

Its  inmost  wants  revealing  ; 
The   sunbeam,   journeying   on   its  myriad 
miles, 

Answers  their  mute  appealing. 

The  Corn  stands,  priest-like,  with  uplifted 
hands, 

For  needed  showers  beseeching  ; 
The  parched  Earth  responds  to  its  demands, 

In  sympathy  far-reaching. 

The  heavens  receive  their  prayer;  and  He 
who  sits 

Enthroned  above  their  splendor  ; 
In  His  divine  compassion,  ne'er  omits 

The  needed  aid  to  render, 

And  when  it  comes,  He  sends  it.    For  His 
ear 

Attends  their  wordless  crying  ; 
And  every  creature,  in  its  need,  is  near 

To  Him  those  needs  supplying. 

Sunshine  and  shade  ;  and  storm  and  dew 
and  rain, 


THE    CIRCLE    OF   BLESSINGS.  gj 

Each  His  Commission  bearing  ; 
Come  as  His  witnesses,  and  not  in  vain 
Are  they  His  power  declaring. 

Creation  thus,  with  eloquent  appeal, 

On  God  is  still  depending  ! 
And  all  its  hidden  processes  reveal, 

How  He  His  help  is  sending! 

Thus  Prayer  and  Answer  ;  Need  and  its 
Supply, 

Like  Rainbow  colors  meeting, 
Circle  the  Universe,  unceasingly 

With  God  and  Nature's  Greeting! 

Faith    looks    above ;    and    in    the    strong 
appeal, 
All  things  to  God  have  spoken, 
Sets  down,  with  strong  assurance    to    its 
seal, 
His  word  can  ne'er  be  broken  ! 


98  WAITING. 

WAITING. 


' '  /  wait  for  the  Lord. '' 


I  am  waiting,  only  waiting ; 

Waiting,  Lord,  to  know  Thy  will. 
Waiting  'mid  the  clouds  and  darkness, 

For  thy  quiet,  u  Peace  f  be  still!" 
I  am  waiting,  only  waiting, 

Waiting,  Lord,  upon  Thee  still ! 

Dark  the  night  has  closed  around  me, 
And  I  do  not  see  my  way  : 

But  I  wait.     For  Thine  appearing 
Turns  the  darkness  into  day. 

And  I'm  waiting — simply  waiting- 
Waiting  for  its  faintest  ray  ! 


'g» 


To  the  hills  mine  eyes  I'm  liftini 

Whence  the  morning  comes  to  view ; 

And  the  midnight  clouds  in  drifting, 
Let  the  struggling  brightness  through. 

And  I'm  waiting,  only  waiting, 
Till  its  radiance  reach  me  too ! 


THE    EVENING    PRIMROSE.  99 

While  I  wait  new  vigor  fires  me, 

Like  the  Eagle's  in  its  flight : 
And  a  heavenly  zeal  inspires  me, 

With  a  sweet,  new-born  delight ; 

And  in  waiting,  simply  waiting, 

Darkness  kindles  into  light! 


THE   EVENING  PRIMROSE. 


Content  to  shine  V  the  dark. 


It  was  a  splendid  specimen  of  the  Even- 
ing Primrose. —  Oenothera  biennis  grandi- 
flora. — The  Gardener  had  nursed  it  with 
great  care  ;  for  the  Mistress  of  the  House 
desired  to  show  it,  in  full  beauty,  to  some 
friends  from  the  City.  And  it  seemed 
now  to  have  attained  the  limits  of  primrose 
perfection.  For  it  stood,  a  large,  fully- 
developed  bush,  upwards  of  four  feet  high, 
and,  with  its  vigorous  branches  and  dark 
green  leaves,  attesting  its  strong  and 
healthful  life ! 

It  was  a  sight  to  delight  the  eye,  as  the 
shades  of  a  dewy  evening  in  July,  gathered 


ioo  THE    EVENING    PRIMROSE. 

over  the  landscape.  There  it  stood,  with 
a  score  of  branches,  laden  with  blossoms, 
some  fully  expanded ;  others  preparing  to 
open,  as  if  trembling  with  joyous  impa- 
tience ;  and  others  again  in  less  advanced 
stages  of  growth.  See  that  one!  Its 
gracefully  slender  cone  seems  to  feel  the 
touch  of  fairy  fingers.  Is  that  a  motion  f 
Yes  !  And  a  motion  you  can  almost  hear, 
as  first  one  calyx  springs  back,  and  then, 
in  a  moment  or  two,  another  and  another. 
Then,  one  petal  of  the  exquisitely  delicate 
straw-colored  flower  slightly  unfolds,  and 
then  another  lifts  itself  up  from  the  circling 
fold  in  which  it  had  been  wrapped.  And 
then,  with  deliberate,  yet  sudden  spring, 
the  flower  bursts  into  full  bloom — as  if  an 
imprisoned  spirit  had  come  forth  into  the 
free  air!  What  a  delicate  perfume  fills 
the  air  !  And  now  the  Bush  seems  alive 
with  conscious  Life,  and  to  rejoice  in  the 
number  and  the  beauty  of  its  flowers  ! 

But  darkness  was  spreading  over  the 
scene.  And  as  it  deepened,  the  voice  of 
one  of  the  Visitors  was  heard  saying, 
"  What  is  the  use  of  this  ?     Why  should 


THE   EVENING  PRIMROSE,  tot 

all  this  beauty  be  for  the  night,  when  no 
one  can  see  or  enjoy  it  ?" 

And  there  seemed  to  come  a  soft  and 
tremulous  tone  as  from  one  of  the  opening 
flowers,  shaping  itself  thus  : 

11  Perhaps,  it  is  not  so  useless  after  all. 
There  are  more  creatures  to  enjoy  our 
beauty  than  you  think.  And. a  thousand 
eyes  are  open  for  us,  when  yours  are  shut. 
And  our  beautiful  Night  Moth  will  hover 
gently  over  us,  and  grow  strong  with  the 
sweets  he  will  steal  from  us.  And  the 
Moon  will  see  us  ;  and  the  Stars  will  look 
down  upon  us  ;  and  we  shall  see  their 
imao-e  in  every  drop  of  dew.  And  better 
than  all  this,  He  who  made  us  what  we 
are,  will  see  us.  For  He  made  us  to 
bloom  in  the  night — and  it's  pleasant  to  be 
always  bright  for  Him  /" 

And  the  Mistress  of  the  House  seemed 
to  know  the  gentle  voice,  and  said,  as  she 
lingered  a  moment  by  the  side  of  the  bush, 
"The  little  Flower  is  truly  wise.  For,  to 
fill  cheerfully  and  lovingly,  the  sphere 
that  He  appoints,  is  to  make  the  darkest 


i02  IN  TIM  A  T/ONS. 

night  pleasant,  and  the  gloomiest  lot  bright 
with  His  smile  !" 


INTIMATIONS. 


"  Hence,  in  a  season  of  calm  weather, 
Though  inland  far  we  be, 
Our  souls  have  sight  of  that  Immortal  Sea  ! 

—  Wordsworth. 


It's  not  alone  the  thing  we  see, 
But  that  which  stands  behind  it, 

That  makes  the  subtle  harmony, 
Of  Nature  as  we  find  it. 

The  Seen  is  but  the  changing  hue 
Of  what  no  change  retaineth  ; 

And  Faith  but  lets  the  glory  through. 
On  darkness  that  remaineth. 

It  needs  two  worlds  to  make  the  chords 

Of  Nature's  music  finest; 
And  e'en  the  hints  in  thoughts  and  words, 

Attest  it  the  divinest ! 

By  that  which  is  within  us,  we 
Interpret  all  without  us  ; 


IN  T I M A  TIONS.  103 

And  by  its  subtle  harmony, 
Make  Day  or  Night  about  us  ! 

The  glory  of  the  sunset  sky 
In  its  most  changing  splendor, 

Awakens  thoughts  nor  you  nor  I, 
Nor  any  one  can  render  ! 

But  in  the  soul,  these. thoughts  have  place, 
As  in  the  Cloud,  the  Lightning; 

They  come  ;  they  shine  ;  but  leave  no  trace 
Of  all  their  gentle  bright'ning. 

The  grandeur  is  not  in  the  storm, 

But  in  the  spirit's  feeling  ; 
And  grace  and  beauty  both  conform 

Themselves  to  its  revealing. 

For  outward  thin  ops  are  but  the  test 

o 

Of  what  within  is  moving  ; 
And  what  we  are,  is  half  confess'd, 
By  that  which  they  are  proving  ! 

An  island  in  a  boundless  sea, 

Whose  waves  are  ever  sounding 

The  deep  notes  of  Infinity, 

Ourselves  and  all  surrounding, 


Io4  INTIMATIONS. 

Is  what  we  are,  as  wond'ringly, 
We  question  things  around  us. 

We  question  ;  but  there's  no  reply, 
Beyond  the  lines  that  bound  us  ! 

And  then,  as  with  a  sense  of  wings, 
What  strange  emotions  move  us  ; 

As  Thought ;  the  callow  nestling,  springs 
To  mount  to  things  above  us  ! 

We  own  the  far-off  influence 

Our  inner-selves  revealing ; 
And  thrill  beneath  the  subtle  sense 

Of  Nature's  mute  appealing! 

And  thus  we  stand  with  two-fold  Life, 

Mid  hostile  demonstrations  ; 
Kindred  to  both  sides  in  the  strife, 

By  Birth  and  Inclination  ! 

We  feel  the  touch  of  Love  divine, 

But  yield  not  to  its  wooing  ; 
We  see  where  Truth  and  Right  combine, 

The  False  and  Wrong  pursuing ! 

And  never  shall  we  feel  the  thrill 
Of  Truth's  best  ministrations  ; 


THE   LILIES    OF   THE  FIELD,  iG; 

Till  Jesus,  with  His  love  shall  fill 
Our  spirits'  inspirations. 

Then,  when  we  find  Him  as  our  Life, 
We  find  our  True  Life  in  Him  ; 

And  cease  from  all  our  earthly  strife, 
To  know  Him  and  to  win  Him  ! 


THE  LILIES  OF  THE  FIELD. 


i. 

Oh  !    The  Lilies  of  the  field  ! 
How  sweet  the  truths  they  yield, 
As  they  sparkle  in  the  sunshine  and  the 
•  dew  ! 
How  they  quiver  with  delight, 
In  the  morning's  balmy  light, 
With  a  beauty,  ever  constant  ever  new  ! 
How  they  hide  among  the  grass, 
All  unnoticed,  as  we  pass  ; 
Till  their  fragrance  shows  the  place, 
Where  they  lift  their  smiling  face  ; 
And  they  shine 
With  a  glory  all  divine  ; 


io6  THE   LILIES   OF   THE  FIELD. 

Such  as  kings  in  all  their  splendor  never 
knew. 

2. 

Consider  how  they  grow  ! 
Hid  away  among  the  snow 

Not  a  sign  of  all  their  beauty,  can  we  trace! 
For  while  Winter  rules  amain, 
With  his  storm  and  sleet  and  rain  ; 
Or  bends  the  leafless  trees, 
To  the  moaning  of  the  breeze  ; 

They  are  sleeping,  in  their  own  appointed 
place, 

To  the  meaning  and  the  groaning  of  the 
breeze ! 
But  the  South-wind  comes  to  look, 
By  the  hedge-rows  and  the  brook, 

For  its  beauties  of  the  upland  and  the  plain ; 
And  they  feel  its  subtle  glow, 
Through  the  yet  dissolving  snow  ; 
And  its  thrill 

Seems  to  banish  all  their  chill ; 
And  they  lift  their  opening  eyes, 
With  a  sweet  and  glad  surprise 

As  they  whisper,  We  have  come  to  you  again! 


THE   LILIES   OF   THE  FLELD,  toJ 


Consider  how  they  grow  ! 
For,  while  Winter's  tempests  blow, 
They  are  safe  from  all  the  terrors  of  the 
storm ! 
But,  when  its  cold  and  gloom, 
Give  place  to  Spring-time  bloom, 
What  hand  shall  safely  guard  their  fragile 
form  ? 
In  the  garden  or  parterre, 
They  may  bloom  in  safety.     There, 
No  traveller's  foot  may  tread 

On  the  plume, 
As  it  lifts  its  tender  head 
In  the  glad  anticipation,  and    the   joyous 
expectation 
Of  its  bloom  ; 
When  its  fast  approaching  birth 
Shall  lift  it  from  the  earth 
In  the  glory  of  its  beauty  and  perfume. 
So,  they  stand  within  their  lot ; 
And  its  dangers  fright  them  not ! 
For  He  who  bade  them  stow, 
In  their  own  way  makes  them  know 
He  is  near ; 


tog  THE  LILIES   OF   I  BE  FIELD. 

And  He  comes  down  in  the  Sunbeam  and 
the  Dew 
The  fainting  ones  to  cheer 
And  the  weakest  in  their  vigor  to  renew  ! 

4- 

Consider  how  they  grow  ! 
And  let  the  truths,  they  teach 
In  most  persuasive  speech, 
Sink  in  your  hearts  and  grow, 
Like  the  bulb  beneath  the  snow 
Preparing  for  its  blooming  in  the  Spring ! 
So  shall  a  richer  bloom, 
And  a  heavenlier  perfume 
Shed    their    beauty   and    their   fragrance 
round  your  way. 
And  the  peace  of  God  shall  shine, 
With  a  radiance  all  divine  ; 
And  from  darkness  bring  the  glories  of 
the  day ! 


THE    SOURCE    OF   FLLLNESS.  I0g 


THE  SOURCE  OF  FULLNESS. 


"Of  His  fullness  have  all  we  received." 


The  Garden  was  radiant  in  its  lovliness. 
Every  flower  that  could  delight  the  eye, 
with  its  beauty,  or  fill  the  air  with  its  fra- 
grance, was  there  in  the  fullness  of  its 
charms.  There  was  the  Violet,  hiding 
away  among  the  grass.  There  was  the 
Lily,  in  its  queenly  beauty;  the  Rose  in  its 
graceful  splendor;  and  the  Achillea,  bend- 
ing down  with  its  wealth  of  pure,  white, 
daisy-like  flowers.  And  running  vines,  and 
stately,  plants,  and  thrifty  shrubbery,  with 
flowers  of  every  variety  of  hue,  combined 
to  form  a  scene,  which  attracted  the  gaze 
of  every  passer-by  ! 

The  Sun  was  just  declining  in  the  West ; 
and  his  fading  beams,  rested  as  if  for  a 
parting  gaze,  on  Tree  and  Bush  and 
Flower,  that  had  rejoiced  in  his  presence 
through  the  day. 

11  How  wonderful  is  this," — said  the  Big- 


HO  THE  SOURCE    OF  FULLNESS. 

nonia ;  as  having  climbed  to  the  top  of  his 
Cross-like  pole,  he  rested  there  his  wealth 
of  brilliant  orange-colored  corollas  —  a 
perfect  blaze  of  floral  luxuriance  and 
beauty.  "  How  wonderful  this  is  !  Some 
one  must  have  thought  of  all  this  !  For 
these  flowers  could  never  have  made 
themselves  !  Some  one  must  have  thought 
it  all  out !  But  where  did  he  get  all  these 
beautiful  colors?  "  And  soon  a  faint  and 
spirit-like  voice  seemed  to  rise  up  from  a 
cluster  of  sweet-scented  violets,  near  the 
root  of  the  Bignonia,  and  said  : 

"  I  think  just  where  you  got  yours  !  " 
The     Bignonia     seemed    to     shake    its 
clusters  of  brilliant   flowers  in  great   sur- 
prise,  as  it  said  : 

"  What  is  that  you  are  saying,  Little 
One  ?  " 

"  I  was  saying,"  returned  the  Violet, 
"  that  all  the  flowers  get  their  colors  just 
where  you  get  yours.  There  is  no  diffe- 
rence." 

"  And  where,  pray,  did  I  get  mine  ?  " 
"I  think,"  answered  the  Violet,  "we  all 
get  our  colors  from  the  Sun." 


THE  SOURCE    OF  FULLNESS.  m 

"  And  what  do  you  know  about  the  Sun  ; 
shut  up  there,  as  you  are  in  the  grass  ?  If 
you  could  only,  just  for  once,  get  up  here 
where  I  am,  you  might  be  able  to  talk 
about  the  Sun  !  But  down  there  where 
one  can  hardly  see  you, — why  the  thing  is 
too  absurd  !  " 

"I  dare  say  it  is,"  meekly  replied  the 
Violet ;  while  its  blue  eye  seemed  to  glisten 
with  the  moisture  of  a  tear.  "  I  only  know 
what  I  have  been  told  by  one  who  knows 
very  well !  " 

11  And  what  were  you  told  ?  And  who 
told  you  ?  " 

"Why,"  replied  the  Violet,  "as  my 
Mistress  comes  in  the  twilight  to  gather  a 
bunch  of  my  flowers ;  I  often  hear  her 
say,  "  How  wonderful  it  is  that  these 
flowers  get  their  beautiful  colors  from  the 
Sun!"   : 

"Well,"  said  the  Bignonia,  "I  hope 
her  knowledge  is  better  than  her  taste. 
For  she  never  gathers  any  of  my  flowers 
into  the  bunches,  she  is  so  fond  of  col- 
lecting!  But  I  would  like  to  know  how 
we  all  get  our  colors  from  the    Sun?     I 


U2  THE    SOURCE    OF   FULLNESS. 

never  saw  a  sunbeam  of  your  color,  or  of 
the  Lily  of  the  Valley,  or  of  the  Scarlet 
Rose,  or  of  the  Purple  of  the  Fuschia ! 
And  don't  you  know  how  very  far  the  Sun 
is  from  us?  Why,  I  heard  young  Master 
read  in  a  Book,  that  the  Sun  was  ninety- 
five  millions  of  miles  away  from  us  ? 
Though  to  be  sure,  I've  not  got  the  faintest 
idea  of  what  that  means  !  But  it  must  be 
a  very  great  way  off?  especially  down 
there  to  you  !  And  do  you  suppose  the 
Sun  cares,  what  color  you  have  ;  or  whether 
you  have  any  at  all  ? " 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that," 
meekly  responded  the  Violet,  "I  was  only 
saying  what  Mistress  said;  and  I  am  sure 
she  knows  all  about  it!  And  it  must  be 
true  ;  because  when  its  beams  come  to  me 
in  the  morning ;  something  within  me, 
makes  me  feel  that  its  my  Sun  ;  and  comes 
all  that  long,  long  way,  to  tell  me  what  no 
other  flower  could  understand  —  because 
no  other  flower  is  the  Violet !  And  there- 
fore the  Sun  couldn't  be  to  it,  what  it  is  to 
me  !  And  then  a  voice  within  me,  cries 
out  '  Oh,  my  Sun  !     How  beautiful  Thou 


THE   SOUCE    OF  FULLNESS.  113 

art ! '  And  that  makes  me  so  glad,  that  I 
cannot  help  opening  my  leaves,  to  take  it 
all  in  ;  and  breathing  my  thanks  in  the 
very  sweetest  breath,  I  have  !  And  Mis- 
tress says  there  is  something  inside  every 
plant — Nature  I  think  she  calls  it — that 
makes  each  one  capable  of  just  its  own 
color;  and  getting  that  color  from  the 
Sunbeam  by  somehow  working  it  up  into 
its  substance  ;  and  then  showing  it  in  its 
leaves ! " 

Just  then,  the  Youthful  Mistress  of  the 
House,  came  by,  and  stooping  down  to 
gather  a  bunch  of  her  favorite  flowers, 
said,  as  she  placed  them  in  her  bosom  : 

"  You  are  right,  Little  One  !     The  color 

of  every  flower,  is  first  in  the  Sun.    And 

there    is    something   in    every  plant,   that 

makes    it    choose    that    color.       And    the 

Flower  takes  the  sunbeam  into  its  bosom 

— its  very  inner-self — and  works  out  from 

them,  the  sweet  breath  of  the  Lily  ;    the 

bright    hues    of    the    Bignonia ;     and    the 

lovely   colors  of  our  little   Violet!     They 

were  all  in  the  Sun,  before  they  were  made 

the  special  marks  of  the  Flower.     And  so," 
6* 


H4  M  Y    H  \  A  C  I N  TH. 

she  added, — reverently  bowing  her  head, 
and  speaking  in  a  subdued,  yet  rejoicing 
voice — "  we  who  believe  in  Jesus,  find  in 
Him,  more  than  the  Flower  finds  in  the 
Sun.  In  Him,  all  fullness  dwells.  And  we 
are  complete  in  Him  ;  and  draw  from  Him 
the  grace,  we  need  for  every  day's  work 
and  duty.      We  have  it  all  in  Hun  !  " 


MY  HYACINTH, 


"  Come  !   tell  me  now,  whence  this  Flower  stole  all 
this  beauty  ;  or  cease  your  prating." 


I  held  the  Bulb  in  my  open  hand — 
And  it  did  seem  hard  to  understand, 
How,  from  that  rough,  unsightly  thing, 
A  form  of  glorious  life  could  spring  ! 
I  could  trace  no  outwand  mark  to  show 
What  wealth  of  Beauty  lurked  below  ; 
Nor  the  faintest  perfume  on  the  air, 
To  tell  what  fragrance  slumbered  there 

But  I  buried  it  deep  ;  and  o'er  its  head. 
Stores  of  richest  earth  o'erspread. 


M  Y    II  V  A  C  I N  T II .  115 

And  I  hid  it  away  in  a  darkened  room, 
Shut  out  for  weeks  from  the  Sun  and  Air; 

And  you   could  not  dream  from  that  mid- 
night gloom, 
That  the  germ  of  a  Beautiful  Life  was 
there ! 

But  the  Law  of  that  Life,  with  its  mystic 
power, 

Moved  in  each  part  of  the  future  flower  ; 

And  it  soon  began,  through  the  soil  below, 

Delicate,  thread-like  roots  to  throw. 

And  it  was  not  long,  ere  I  could  tell, 

From  the  break  that  came,  in  the  gentle 
swell 

Of  the  soil  above  it,  that,  rising  there, 

Was  a  stem  that  asked  for  sun  and  air. 

And  it  threw  the  earth  from  its    delicate 
head  ; 

And  its  roots,  in  thick'ning  clusters  spread  ; 

And  its  stem  to  a  stately  column  grew, 
With  swelling  buds  on  its  tapering  crest ; 

And  its  perfumed  stores  of  deep'ning  blue, 
Were  gathering  strength  in  its  rounding 
breast. 

And  here  it  stands  !   How  passing  strange, 


Ii6  M  Y    H Y A  C  I N  TH . 

The  power  that  wrought  this  wondrous 

change ! 
That  brought  this  beauty  into  bloom  ; 
That  breathed  around,  this  rich  perfume  ; 
And  opened  up  this  glad  surprise 
Of  Life  and  Fragrance  to  mine  eyes  ! 

"  Not  strange  at  all  /" — a  voice  replied; 

Which  seemed  in  its  soft  and  silvery  tone, 
To  come  from  the  Floweret,  by  my  side — 

"  Not  strange  at  all !  "   Its  the  Life  alone, 
Which,  lodged  unseen,  within  my  breast, 
Sends  out  these  roots ;  erects  this  crest ; 
Breathes  out  this  fragrance  ;  and  displays 
This  wealth  of  beauty  to  your  gaze. 
I  cannot  tell  how  this  can  be  ; 
But,  Oh  !  it  is  easier  far  for  me, 
To  yield  this  soft,  this  rich  perfume 
Than  to  slumber  on  in  my  living  Tomb. 
The  Law  of  my  Life  explains  it  all  !" 

And  the  sweet,  low'accents  died  away ; 
But  I  heard,  as  I   thought,  in  their  dying 
fall, 
A  voice,  from  within,  that  seemed  to  say, 

"The   Flower  speaks    truth.     For,   in  all 
that  live, 


SILENT    SYMPATHY*  JI7 

Is  the  unseen  germ  of  blessing  or  bane  : 
And  whatever  we  are,  we  only  give, 

An  outward  form  to  that  life  again. 
Look  to  it  well,  that  yours  may  bloom 
Sweetly  as  flowers  that  spring  from  the 
sod  ; 
And  open  its  beauty,  and  rich  perfume, 
In   blessings  to   Man,  and  in  praises  to 
God  !" 


SILENT  SYMPATHY. 

Would  you  desire  better  sympathy  /" — Shakespeare. 


My  heart  was  filled  with  sorrow, 

And  my  head  was  bowed  with  grief; 
And  I  looked,  in  vain,  around  me, 

For  comfort  and  relief. 
God  forgive  me,  in  my  darkness, 

That  I  saw  not  what  to  do ; 
When  His  loving  arms  were  round  me, 

All  the  same  as  if  I  knew  ! 

I  did  not  know  who  did  it, 

For  the  Form  I  could  not  see  ; 


n8  THE   LESSON  OF   7 HE    WEED, 

But  an  unknown  Friend,  in  passing, 
Laid  some  violets  on  my  knee. 

And  their  sweet  breath  stole  around  me 
Ere  I  knew  that  they  were  there  ; 

And  \felt  their  silent  presence, 
Both  a  Blessing  and  a  Prayer  ! 

And  the  Blessing  entered  in  me, 

In  thoughts  that  whispered  Peace  ! 
And  the  Prayer  returned  upon  me, 

And  bade  my  doubtings  cease  ; 
For,  from  their  sun-lit  faces 

Came  a  Voice  I  thought  I  knew — 
Will  not  the  God  that  made  us  thus, 

Comfort  and  care  for  you  f 


THE  LESSON  OF  THE  WEED. 

A    PARABLE. 


The  Gardener  was  gathering  a  mess  of 
Strawberries  for  the  Lady  of  the  House  ; 
and  smiled  in  gratification  at  the  display  of 
large  and  luscious  berries  which  his  vines 
produced.     But  a  shade  of  irritation  passed 


THE   LESSON   01-    THE    WEED.  119 

over  his  face,  as  he  impatiently  plucked  up 
the  weeds,  which  persisted  in  growing  in 
the  very  midst  of  his  choicest  plants  !  As 
he  was  thus  engaged,  a  low  voice  seemed 
to  issue  from  a  strong  and  vigorous  Knot- 
weed  {Polygonum),  which  he  had  just 
thrown  out  on  the  path  : 

"  Why  do  you  pluck  me  up  and  cast  me 
aside  so  contemptuously  ?"  said  the  Weed. 

"Why  do  I  cast  you  aside  ?"  replied  the 
Gardener.  "  Because  you  are  unfit  to  be 
here.     You  are  only  a  troublesome  weed  /" 

"But  I  grew  here,"  answered  the  Poly- 
gonum. "  I  stand  in  the  same  soil  ;  grow 
in  the  same  sun,  and  share  the  same  nour- 
ishment with  the  plants  you  cherish  so 
carefully." 

"I  know  that,"  replied  the  Gardener, 
"but  what  do  you  give  in  return?  See 
these  berries  !  How  large  and  rich  and 
beautiful  they  are  ;  How  they  repay  my 
care  !  But  you  are  only  a  miserable  weed  ; 
a  cumberer  of  the  ground  ;  stealing  away 
from  them  the  nourishment  I  meant  them 
to  have!" 

"  I  know  1  am  only  a  weed  :  but  I  am 


120  THE    LESSON  OF   THE    WEED. 

what  I  was  made.  I  was  not  asked  to 
choose  whether  I  would  be  a  weed  or  a 
strawberry  plant.  Do  you  suppose  they 
had  any  choice  in  the  matter  at  all  ?" 

"  Well,  candidly,  I  don't  believe  they  had. 
They  were  just  made  strawberry-plants; 
and  couldn't  be  anything  else." 

"  Then,"  said  the  Polygonum,  looking 
up  into- his  face  with  the  deepest  earnest- 
ness, "  don't  you  think  I  deserve  some 
consideration  at  your  hands?" 

"Consideration  !  What  consideration? 
What  would  the  Mistress  say  to  me,  if  I 
was  to  take  a  lot  of  you  weeds  along  with 
the  strawberries  for  dinner  ?" 

"And  then,"  said  the  Polygonum— as  if 
not  hearing  what  the  Gardener  had  said 
last — "you  don't  know  how  hard  I  have 
tried  to  bear  just  such  berries  as  those  : 
but  the  harder  I  try,  the  bigger  weed 
I  get  to  be  !" 

"I  suppose  you  do.  But  the  truth  is, 
you  know,  you  can  never  get  to  be  any- 
thing but  a  zveed,  no  matter  how  hard  you 
try.  It's  just  the  inside  nature  coming  out; 
and  yours  is  the  weed  nature  all  through; 


THE   LESSON   OF   THE    WEED.  l2j 

and  you  might  just  as  well  give  up  trying 
to  be  anything  else  !" 

"Well,"  said  the  Polygonum,  despond- 
ently, "It  may  be  all  right,  but  I  can't  see 
the  justice  of  making  me  what  I  am,  and 
then  punishing  me  for  being  so !  " 

"  No.  I  do  not  suppose  you  can.  But 
let  me  tell  you,  that  the  doom  of  law  is 
upon  us  all.  Things  low  down  in  Creation 
are  made  to  represent  the  condition  of 
beings  in  the  higher  ranks  of  its  order. 
And  so  it  comes  to  pass  that  certain  things 
— weeds  for  example — which,  by  no  act  of 
choice  are  what  they  are,  serve  in  their 
character  and  doom  as  parables  of  the 
state  and  end  of  beings,  who  choose  the 
evil  and  reject  the  good.  And  so,  hard  as 
your  lot  may  stem,  you  are  really  one  of 
the  Creator's  ministering  servants ;  who 
shows  us,  even  by  His  lowliest  works  that 
for  His  higher  creatures,  there  is  no 
honor,  but  that  which  springs  from  a  choice 
of  the  good  for  itself  alone.  !" 


122  WE   LOVED   HIM,   BECAUSE 

"WE  LOVE   HIM,  BECAUSE  HE 
FIRST  LOVED  US." 


When  did  He  love  us?     Who  can  tell 

What  time  this  "first"  began? 
Or,   to  its    source    trace    back    the    ocean 
swell 
Of  this  great  love  to  Man  ? 
Before  Creation's  birth  ; 
Or  angels  o'er  this  new-made  earth 
Shouted  for  joy;  God's  thoughts  of  grace 
Held  then  as  now,  unchanged  their  place. 
Far  back  through  everlasting  years, 
The  purpose  of  His  love  appears. 
Creation's  work  it  underlies  ; 
It  reared  the  earth  ;  it  arched  the  skies. 
It  was  ;  and  all  things  else  appear, 
To  make  its  glorious  purpose  clear. 

How  did  He  love  us?     With  a  love, 
Like  His  own  nature,  full  and  free  ; 

Yearning  for  all  who  live  to  prove 
Its  fullness  everlastingly. 

His  Love,  diffusive  as  the  Light, 

Acts  unrestrained,  to  scatter  Night, 


HE    FIRST  LOVED    US.  123 

And  Sin  and  Darkness  all  away. 
You  cannot  hedge  it  in,  or  draw 
Restriction  round  it.     For  its  law 
Is  always,  everywhere,  to  shine, 
In  all  things  free  ;  in  all  divine  ; 

And  imaged  in  the  perfect  day. 
For  when  in  grace  to  Man  He  moves 
His  nature  acts  :   His  nature  loves. 
Loves  like  Himself,  prepared  to  give 

Himself  in  blessing  to  the  lost, 
Their  guilt  and  ruin  to  retrieve  ; 

And  save  them  at  whatever  cost ! 

Why  did  He  love  us  ?     Oh  !  as  well, 
May  we  the  Morning's  secret  tell  ! 
For,  as  the  Light  responsive  springs 

To  turn  the  darkness  into  day  ; 
Love,  conscious  of  our  wanderings, 

Goes  forth  to  meet  us  on  our  way  : 
Enters  our  lost  estate  and  brines 
Life  and  Salvation  on  its  wings. 
It  seeks  not  from  our  ill  desert, 

To  save  itself  from  toil  and  cost ; 
But  stoops,  e'en  to  its  deadly  hurt, 

If  thus  it  may  redeem  the  lost  ; 
Carries  our  griefs;  unmurmeringly 


i  2 4      CONNECTICUT  FA RMEF? S  PRO TES T 

Charges  itself  with  all  our  loss  ; 
Anticipates  Gethsemane, 

And  walks  unflinching  to  the  Cross  ! 
And  thus  He  loved  us.     Thus  the  Law 
Of  His  great  love  is  still  to  draw 
All  creatures  to  Himself  that  He 
The  source  of  their  true  life  may  be  ! 


THE   CONNECTICUT  FARMER'S 
PROTEST  AGAINST  THE  MUM- 
MERIES  OF    RITUALISM. 


Draw  it  mild  ye  High  Church  fellers  ! 

Ye're  a  hi  filutin  set, 
Ef  ye  think  we'll  blow  your  bellers, 

Jest  to  hev  you'r  irons  het. 
Folks  'ud  think  to  see  you  Sundays, 

Sucking  doves  warn't  sweeter'n  you  ! 
Them  as  chance  to  meet  you  Mondays, 

Hev  to  change  their  pint  o'  view. 

Wot's  the  use  of  genytiexions 

Ef  the  heart  stands  bolt  upright? 
Better  'tend  the  Lord's  directions, 


AGAINST  MIMUERIES   OF  RITUALISM.      1 25 

Kind  o'  humbly  in  His  sight ! 
Priests  and  altar  cloths  and  candles, 

Albs  and  chasubles  and  stoles  ; 
Wot's  the  use  of  sich-like  fixins, 

In  the  work  o'  savin  souls  ? 

Efye  saves  'em  ?     That's  a  pint  on 

Wich  there's  lots  o'  folks  like  me, 
Find  theirselves  quite  out  o'  jint  on, 

All  as  touches  that  idee  ! 
'Cos  it's  jest  es  true  as  preachin' 

Thet  ye're  Ritchelistic  ways  ; 
Don't  find  no  support  of  teachin' 

In  the  twelve  Apostles'  days  ! 

You  bet  Paul  warn't  ketched  intonin' 

When  men  axed,  Wot  shall  we  do  ? 
It  might  cost  him  stripes  or  stonin' — 

'Twern't  no  matter  !       Clear  and  true 
Cum  forth  his  answer — alius  tight'ning 

On  men's  consciences  an'  pride  ; 
Them  as  was  afeard  o'  lightnin', 

Found  they  hed  to  stand  aside  ! 

You  don't  fix  things  that  ere  fashion  : 
Hev  ye  grit  enough  for  that  ? 


I26         CONNECTICUT  FARMER'S  PROTESl 

Introits  ;  abserlutions  ;  crossings  ; 

Them  s  the  things  ye  fix  up  pat ! 
Wall,  ye  might  ez  well  knock  under — 

Cos  ye've  got  to  learn  a  power, 
Ef  ye  think  sich  home-made  thunder 

Ever'll  turn  our  skim-milk  sour. 

And  ye  boast  that  ye  can  mount  up, 

To  the  'postles'  times  agen, 
By  the  links  that  some  folks  count  up — 

— Don't  hang  much  by  that  ere  chain. 
Coz  it's  clean  agin  all  reason, 

That  the  grace  o'  God  can  be 
Tuck  as  some  folks  take  the  measles ; 

From  the  hands  of  A.  to  B. 

Tain't  the  way  God  makes  His  Preachers. 

Paul  warn't  made  so,  nor  was  John. 
An'  they  head  a  line  o'  teachers, 

Ye  haint  much  improved  upon. 
Think  o'  them  in  lawn  and  satin 

Bishop's  sleeves,  an'  chairs  o'  state  ! 
Guess  the  things  ye  seem  so  pat  in, 

Wouldn't  pass  with  them  for  great. 

Yet,  ye  be  the  True  Church — be  ye  ? 
And  with  angry  thoughts  pursue, 


AGAINST  MUMMERIES   OE  RITUALISM.       127 

Them  as  tell  the  old,  old  story, 

'Coz  they  foller  not  with  you. 
Jest  ye  ask  our  Nance  that  question — 

Gosh  if  she  don't  make  ye  see 
There's  no  mite  o'  ground  to  rest  on, 

For  sich  Romanish  idee. 

Summon  back  the  Lord's  first  preachers  ; 

Let  .hem  answer  that  ere  claim, 
Call  the  Martyrs  for  your  teachers, 

Ez  they  feel  the  scorchin'  flame  ; 
An'  with  trumpet  tones  they'll  tell  you, 

That  the  Church  of  Christ  must  be, 
— Like  the  Lord  thet  died  to  save  it — 

One,  unbroken  unity. 

Not  in  outward  rites  an'  shaders ; 

Not  in  outward  eny  thing  ; 
By  the  unseen  grace  that  gushes 

Down,  from  Life's  eternal  spring. 
One,  in  hope  of  coming  glory ; 

One,  in  Faith  thet  works  by  Love  ; 
One,  in  thet  same  old,  old  story 

Of  the  Lord's  Incarnate  Love! 

Ho  !  ye  Ritchelist'c  teachers  ! 
Set  the  trumpet  to  your  mouth; 


t28      AS    THE  FATHER   HATH  LOVED   ME, 

Ring  it  out  like  all  Creation, 

East  an'  West  an'  North  an'  South- 
Let  yere  livin'  members  hear  it, 

Tell  it  o'er  yere  sleepin'  dead, 
It's  a  Livin'  Faith  that  jines  us, 

Onto  Christ,  the  Livin'  Head  ! 

By  the  martyr-fires  that  light  you, 

Ez  ye  trace  the  ages  back  ; 
By  the  glorious  names  thet  greet  you 

All  along  your  onward  track  ; 
Cast  away  your  Romish  fixins, 

Ez  ye  did  in  early  youth — 
And  with  all  true  hearts  around  you 

Strike  for  God  Almighty's  truth  ! 


AS  THE  FATHER  HATH  LOVED 
ME,  SO  HAVE  I  LOVED  YOU." 


"  Where  shall  the  wearied  soul  find  rest, 
Or  consolation  when  distress'd? 
Who,  who  amidst  its  deepest  grief, 
Can  bring  it  sure  and  sweet  relief?" 


SO  HAVE  I  LOVED  JOU.  12g 

Thus,  to  myself,  I  said  one  day, 
As  suffering,  on  my  couch  I  lay  : 
Sickness  without,  and  grief  within 

Lay  on  me  as  a  chastening  rod : 
And  doubts  and  fears,  and  clouds  of  sin, 

Seemed  to  shut  out  the  face  of  God: 
When,  sweetly  as  a  voice  from  Heaven, 
These  words  unto  my  soul  were  given  : — 

Wearied  Soul!  by  sin  oppressed, 

Come,  the  Saviour's  fullness  prove  ; 
Lean  thy  head  upon  His  breast : 

Listen  to  His  words  of  love : — 
Canst  thou  tell  the  wondrous  height 

Of  the  Father's  love  to  Me  ? 
Knowest  thou  of  its  deathless  might  ? 

Such  is  that  I  have  for  thee  ! 

Thou  wert  precious  in  My  sight, 

Ere  the  woHd  from  nothing  came  : 
Then,  in  thee  I  took  delight, 

And  I  called  thee  by  thy  name, 
Do  not  think  thou  art  forgot ; 

On  My  heart  thy  name  I  bear ; 
And,  in  every  future  lot, 

I  will  make  thy  wants  My  care. 
7 


130     AS  THE  FATHER  HATH  LOVED  ME. 

When  the  storm  is  passing  by, 

I  will  hide  thee  'neath  My  wing. 
And,  when  thou  art  called  to  die, 

Home,  at  last,  I'll  safely  bring. 
Cast  away  thy  doubts  and  fears  ; 

Thou,  My  faithfulness  shall  prove  ; 
And,  when  sight  is  dimmed  by  tears, 

Trust  the  fullness  of  My  love ! 

I  heard  these  words.     And  as  the  light 

Breaks  in  to  let  the  glory  through  ; 
At  once,  out  of  my  spirit's  night, 

He  seemed  to  rise  before  my  view  ! 
Oh !  never  can  that  vision  fade 
Out  of  my  sight !    In  light  or  shade, 
Its  heavenly  radiance  seems  to  play 
In  rainbow  beauty,  o'er  my  way. 
And  all  around,  beneath,  above, 
Echoes  His  words  of  perfect  love ! 


THE    INNER    NATURE.  131 

THE  INNER  NATURE   REVEALING 
ITSELF. 


A  Parable. 


"  Make  the  Tree  good,  and  his  Fruit  good.'' 
"  The  engrafted  word." 


There  are  myriads  of  voices,  floating  all 
around  us.  They  come  from  all  things 
that  are — though  like  the  voices  of  the 
stars,  they  have  never  been  framed  into 
human  speech  !  Shall  we  ever  be  wise 
enough  to  interpret  them?  They  would 
teach  us  many  a  lesson  if  we  were  ! 

I  was  strolling  with  a  couple  of  female 
friends,  in  the  very  early  twilight  of  a  lovely 
autumn  evening,  through  the  orchard  of  a 
friend,  with  whom  I  was  spending  a  short 
vacation.  The  orchard  itself  was  young 
and  thrifty,  abounding  in  the  finest  fruit. 
Two  trees  especially,  arrested  our  atten- 
tion, and  before  I  was  aware,  my  friends 
had  plucked  an  apple  off  one  of  the  trees, 
and  proceeded  to  taste  it. 


I32  THE    INNER    NATURE 

Now,  it  so  happened,  that  this  tree  was 
a  very  vigorous,  native  Crab,  and  its  fruit, 
therefore,  everything  that  such  fruit  could 
be.  In  other  words,  it  was  most  intensely 
bitter.  The  scene  that  followed  was  by  no 
means  complimentary,  either  to  the  fruit 
itself,  or  to  the  beauty  of  expression  in  the 
faces  of  my  two  friends,  as  they  hastily 
cast  away  the  apples,  and  strove  to  regain 
the  calmness  they  had  so  unexpectedly 
lost!  Lingering  a  little  behind,  as  they 
passed  on  to  the  house,  the  leaves  of  the 
tree  seemed  to  shake  with  tremulous  emo- 
tion, and  a  low  desponding  voice  from  the 
heart  of  the  tree  itself,  exclaimed,  "There 
it  is  again  !  There's  no  use  in  my  trying  ! 
I  might  as  well  give  it  up  !"  And  a  clear, 
musical  voice,  from  the  Golden  Pippin,  by 
its  side,  said,  "  What  might  you  as  well 
give  up?" 

"  Why,  I  might  as  well  give  up  trying 
to  make  good  fruit,"  replied  the  Crab-tree. 
"  For  the  harder  I  try,  the  sourer  my  fruit 
gets  to  be  !  You  saw  how  it  was  just  now? 
People  pluck  my  fruit,  and  the  moment 
they  begin    to    eat,  they  spit   it  out,   and 


REVEALING     ITSELF,  ^3 

make  all  kinds  of  wry  faces — just  as  those 
two  silly  girls  did,  a  moment  ago  !  It's 
hard,  too,  for  they  pluck  your  fruit,  and 
say,  'How  fine  that  is  f  And  I'm  sure, 
you  don't  try  any  harder  than  I  do." 

"  Xo,  I  do  not.  Indeed,  I  don't  try  at 
all.  My  best  fruit  just  comes  !  But  would 
you  believe  it  ?  My  apples  were  once 
just  like  yours!  And  many's  the  time 
I've  laughed  at  the  ugly  faces  they  made 
—just  as  those  two  girls  did  now — on 
tasting  them.  I  wasn't  a  bit  sorry  about 
it !" 

lJ  That  may  be.  But  you  mustn't  expect 
me  to  believe  that  your  fruit  was  ever  like 
mine  !  Anyway  /  can't  make  Golden  Pip- 
pins out  of  a  Crab-Apple  tree!" 

"  No  more  can  I  ;  and  so  it  was  not  my 
work  at  all.     It  all  comes  of  the  Grafting  !" 

"Grafting  ?  And  what  do  you  mean 
by  that?" 

"  Well,  you  see,  one  day  the  Master 
came,  and  cut  off  all  my  best  branches, 
leaving  me  only  a  few,  just  to  breathe 
through.  Then  he  put  a  little  cutting  or 
cion  of  the  Golden  Pippin  into  the  stump 


I34  THE    INNER    NATURE 

of  each  branch  he  had  cut  off;  closed  up 
the  wound  as  carefully  as  he  could,  and 
put  some  wax — grafting  wax,  I  think  he 
called  it — all  round  it,  and  then,  tying  some 
bandages  round  that,  left  me  just  so  !  Oh  ! 
but  I  was  a  sorry-looking  thing  just  then  ! 
All  my  best  branches,  that  I  was  so  proud 
of,  cut  off,  and  nothing  but  the  bandaged 
stumps,  sticking  up,  as  if  I  wanted  people 
to  see  them  !  You  may  be  sure  I  felt  bad 
enough !  For  how  was  I  ever  going  to  do  any- 
thing a  decent  tree  ought  to  do  ?  And  these 
wounds,  would  they  ever  heal  up  ?  Should 
*  I  ever  bear  blossoms  and  fruit  again  ?  For 
if  my  fruit  was  sour,  it  was  the  best  I  knew 
how  to  bear.  And  I  tried  hard  enough  to 
make  it  better;  just  as  you  are  trying  now. 
But,  after  a  while,  the  Master  came  to 
examine  the  grafts,  as  he  called  them. 
And  he  said  to  his  little  son,  Charlie,  these 
grafts  have  all  taken,  and  we'll  have  fine 
fruit  here  in  a  year  or  two  !  Now  I  did  not 
know  what  he  meant  by  the  grafts  having 
taken — or  what  they  had  to  take — but  what 
he  said  about  the  fruit,  I  understood  well 
enough.     That  was  coming  after  a  while. 


REVEALING     ITSELF. 


lSS 


Well,  he  watched  me  very  carefully:  and 
now,  you  see  it's  come  just  as  he  said.  For 
those  little  grafts  have  all  grown  to  be  fine, 
large  branches  ;  and  every  year  fruit  comes 
just  as  you  see  it  now.  Oh !  it's  a  great 
thing  to  be  grafted!" 

"But  I  don't  see  how  all  this  helps  me," 
said  the  Crab  Tree  very  mournfully.  "I 
can't  graft  myself,  you  know !" 

Just  then,  the  Master  came  along,  fol- 
lowed by  the  Gardener,  to  whom  he  said, 
Th  fs  the  Tree  I  was  talking  to  you  about. 
I  believe  now  I'll  not  cut  it  down,  as  I  was 
thinking  of  doing ;  but  just  mark  it  for 
grafting  in  the  early  spring.  It's  a  young 
and  vigorous  tree,  and  may  do  me  good 
service  yet !" 

And  the  Crab-Tree  shook  its  branches 
in  tremulous  delight,  at  the  thought  of 
being  good  at  hearty  at  last ;  and  of  proving 
its  goodness  by  the  good  fruit  it  would 
then  be  able  to  bear  ! 


136  COMMUNION. 

COMMUNION. 


"  An  ye  commune  much  with  a  donkey ',  ye1 11  just  be  a 
donkey  your  ain  se/.v 


No   creature    stands  alone.     And  all  the 
finer 

Its  inner  life  may  be 
To  that  extent  the  higher  and  diviner, 

Its  need  of  sympathy. 

For  what  is  sympathy  ;  but  the  communion 

Of  things  that  are  of  kin  ? 
That    feel    the    touch  of  that   mysterious 
union, 

Which  makes  them  one  within  ? 

The  sunbeam  lavishes  its  wealth  of  treasure, 

Upon  the  way-side  stone. 
//  has  no  wants  ;  knows  neither  pain  nor 
pleasure, 

And  so  remains  alone  ! 

But   to   the   flowers,  it   makes   the   same 
appealing ; 


C  O  M  M  UNION, 


137 


And  to  its  mute  caress, 
They  answer  back  ;  to  the  same  sun  re- 
vealing 
Their  wealth  of  loveliness  ! 

Sparkling  with  dew-drops,  see  the    violet 
raises 
Its  crest  in  mute  delight ; 
Singing  in  low  and  perfumed  breath  the 
praises 
Of  Sunbeam  and  of  Night ! 

With  both  it  holds  communion ;    now  re- 
vealing 

Whate'er  they  can  bestow ; 
Then,  in  the  fullness  of  its  nature,  living 

The  gifts  that  from  them  flow  ! 

The    sunbeam  came  on  its  long  journey 
seeking 

To  draw  it  from  the  sod  ! 
And  it  replied  in  tearful  silence,  speaking 

Its  gratitude  to  God  ! 

The   lute's    strings   answer   in    their    low 
vjbrations. 


*3* 


COMMUNION. 


To  sounds  from  other  strings  ; 
And  spirit  makes  reply  to  inspirations, 
From  unseen,  heavenly  things  ! 

There  is  a  subtle  aura  floating tx>und  us, 

Whose  wave-like  influence 
Connects  us  with  the  unseen  worlds  that 
bound  us, 

Through  every  door  of  sense  ! 

Man,  beast,  bird,  insect  feel  its  soft  appeal- 
ing 
Which  comes  to  them  from  far  : 
But  oft  its  touch  by  stronger  power  con- 
cealing, 
As  daylight  hides  the  star. 

For  Nature  is  the  key-board,  and  it  ranges 

Through  all  created  things; 
And  we  but  dimly  comprehend  the  changes, 

That  sweep  across  its  strings. 

We  ai'e  not  now  in  tune.     The  limitations  ; 

The  broken  strings  ;  the  strife ; 
Will  all  be  lost  in  the  full  revelation, 
Of  Him  who  is  our  Life  ! 


COMMUNION,  I39 

We    shall  be  like  Him  then.     Our  spirit 
tension 

No  tuning  shall  prolong! 
All  shall  be  lost  in  the  full  grand  ascension 

Of  our  immortal  song ! 

Nature    shall   then  be  born  ;  her    powers 
expanded, 
Long  locked  up  in  the  night, 
Undreamed     of,     unsuspected — now     re- 
manded 
To  service  in  the  light ! 

So  as  a  prelude,  gentle  intimations 
From  earth,  from  air  and  skies, 

Seem  to  foretell  the  richer  inspirations 
That  shall  from  all  things  rise, 

When  the  full  song-  of  a  restored  Creation 

Around,  beneath,  above, 
Shall  blend  its  notes  in  varying  illustration 

Of  Jesus  and  His  love! 


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